


It was always going to be you: his side

by sassamifrass



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Chatlogs, Eventual angst because SEVEN, F/M, Falling In Love, Flirting, Romantic Fluff, Surveillance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 42,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassamifrass/pseuds/sassamifrass
Summary: Want to know what Seven was thinking over those 11 days? This fic will let you get inside Seven’s head as he works through his feelings for you <3 Consider it a companion fic to read alongside playing the game! May it bring you all comfort on the dreaded Day 8 of his route by giving you MAXIMUM SEVEN. Expect a lot of fluffy romance, flirting, blushing and some steamy parts too. I have written extended versions of in-game conversations, added extra scenes, and extra calls/texts/chats as well. We'd all talk with him more if we could. The title of this work references this adorable piece of fanart: MysMe fanart by Joker Ace.The reader is referred to as "you" or sometimes "[MC]" (copy/paste into Word, find and replace [MC] and your canon MC's name can appear~!)I'll post to @AWildSassaApprs on Twitter when I update the fic, for those of you without AO3 accounts who can't subscribe for updates as easily! It's my otoge-focused Twitter account (who am I kidding it's pretty much just Seven fangirling)





	1. Day one: morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven has been working non-stop since your appearance to determine whether you are a threat to the RFA. Does he really need to watch the footage that many times, though...?

## Day one: morning

First, your shadow appears on the far wall at the end of the corridor. Your approach is slow, uncertain.  Ah, yes, here. Cue your face in three... two…one…

You look so nervous and alone.  Anyone watching would be suspicious of you. But there is no one watching. Well, no one except  the security cameras. No one but him.

This is the eleventh time he has replayed the footage of you. The tips of his fingers are actually starting to feel a little tingly, he’s been typing so fast, making a note of every little detail that could become a clue. The bag you carry, your awkward movements, the practical footwear, the upturned nose, the loose hair that keeps getting in your eyes, the cute way you bite your lip -

He is not going to miss a thing.

V was strangely confident that you weren’t a threat. And Seven felt it too, looking at you. The potential link to Rika… was also worth investigating.

But feelings are not the basis for ensuring anyone’s safety. The RFA must be protected. Seven would protect Rika’s, V’s RFA with his life, if he had to. And that still would barely be enough to repay the debt he owed them.

In the footage, you are frowning at your phone, glancing at the keypad outside Rika’s apartment, then back down again. Seven installed the best CCTV monitoring system money (not his of course, lol ) could buy, and it pays off – the mobile’s screen is not exactly readable, but he can recognise the messenger. The messenger he created. That you, somehow, gained access to without a shred of hacking skill.

No log of the chat you are viewing remains.

He hasn’t turned up any dirt on you yet, but there are traces of you everywhere, genuine, real traces spread across years. Your social network accounts, public photos, forum posts. Once he discovered your rather unique username and email (easy, from your use of the app… your phone is basically his to play with, now) pulling together evidence has been a case of working out what to throw out as irrelevant. Narrow down the evidence to just the parts to pursue deeper, the parts that might link you to the hacker.

On the CCTV footage, you are fumbling, now, pressing the entry code numbers in one by one. So cute. W-wait – how is that cute?! Gahhhh~! Where did that thought come from?! It must be all the SNS stuff he’s been skimming through, making you feel more familiar than you are. And the forum posts. So many posts! Such a nerd. A cute nerd~

Anyway.

Anyway…!

ANYWAY.

Seven’s fingers are still tired. He’s alone, so he could switch to voice commands, but instead – oh! He should probably call you. He hasn’t heard your voice yet. Your voice might be another clue! Yeah! He really wants to hear it!

Plus, he should probably explain about the call system.

...

You answer almost immediately. You saw his name pop up on your phone, of course, thanks to the messenger app.

Seven doesn’t give you a chance to speak.

“Rrrrrrr rrrrrrrr. Your bank account has been used for a fun prank! Please verify your identity by -”

Seven continues his prank spiel for another minute or so. When he finishes, you can’t help but tease him a little by threatening to hang up -

“NOOOOOO!!!!!  You’re so cold! I just called to check your number!!! Don’t hang up!! It’s me, Seven!”


	2. Day one: afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven is still investigating you, but he wants to make sure you're safe, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note throughout this fic, quoted chats from the game are modified (and in later days, even totally original chats/calls will appear) to better suit the flow of the story. None of the edits change the overall plot!

## Day one: afternoon

_I’m going to have to delete all of this, soon…_

There’s a few leads left to pursue, but he’s already quite confident if there was anything suspicious about you, he’d have at least seen a shadow of it by now. Combing through all the agency files that could link to you is the main thing slowing him down; he has to do all that manually. The personal touch is important with things like that. A bot could leave traces for the agency to track back later. Whether you are innocent or not, there’s no way his employer can know Seven has any interest in you. That would be dangerous for everyone.

Right now, there are so many small pieces of you on his machines. All encrypted, of course. The chances of someone being able to access any material without his cooperation is so small as to be close to zero.

 _Close… but not zero. There’s always a way._ He knows that better than anyone.

Of course, he possesses dangerous information of all kinds that he does not delete. There’s no way to avoid it. But Seven has multiple fail-safes all ready to go should he be captured or killed. And the first data to be erased from existence will be everything connected to RFA.

Every shred of data on you is identified as such. Everything. The output of the bot that trawled your Tripter account to collect stats of interest. The categories and frequencies of every website your username or email addresses has ever appeared on. The photo of you in a cat café, holding out a treat to a fluffy ginger cat that refuses to acknowledge your existence.

He really likes that one.

Most of the sifting through your digital debris was done automatically. Seven has only invaded your privacy as much as is necessary. Just the items his bot scripts have flagged with needing review. And the cat photos (well, his bots flagged those for review, too, because: cat photos).

It’s a little sad they’ll all have to be deleted, soon.

He minimises the picture of you and the ginger cat, but doesn’t close it.

\---oOo---

Okay. There was a nap in there somewhere, he’s sure, but at the same time, Seven feels like he hasn’t blinked for hours. Ugh.

Couch break? COUCH BREAK.

Maybe Yoosung’s slacking off in class again. Time to have some fun? He’s got that  photo he took last week specifically to prank Yoosung after all…

 

> **707 has entered the chatroom**
> 
> **[MC]: Whoah~! Who’s this guy?!**

 

Hahaha. No Yoosung, but… he’s happy to see you, too.

 

> **707: Drumroll, plz! It’s SEVEN-ZERO-SEVEN!**
> 
> **707: Clap everyone~!**

 

Before his sleep-deprived mind really catches up with his fingers, he finds himself bringing up Rika. Ah, that’s not good, the mood’s totally died. Seems like he’s going to need to use that photo now. _Sorry, Yoosung! I’ll come up with another trick for you soon~_

 

> **[ ](http://talesfromelectriceve.com/hosted_images/HisSide_02_03_large.png)  
>  **
> 
> **[MC]: She’s beautiful!**

 

 _Yes._ He’s got you!

 

> **707: This is…**
> 
> **707: a photo of me lolololol**
> 
> **[MC]: oh**
> 
> **[MC]: >_<**
> 
> **[MC]: then… u r very beautiful…? lolol**

 

After that, he spends most of the conversation grinning, lying back on the couch and holding his phone in the air. Hmm~! Is [MC] the next Yoosung? Maybe not. You’re quicker than Yoosung. But still. He can tell he’s going to have fun playing with you, for sure.

He’s so certain you are safe. Just a little longer, and his doubt will be totally gone.

That said, you’re only safe in one sense. You don’t seem to be connected to the hacker, but Seven can’t find any evidence of Rika, either. And if the hacker wasn’t somehow connected to Rika, it could mean that you’re being used by someone.  Joining the RFA could have put you in danger.  He’s going to have to keep an eye out for you.

 

> **707: u should know**
> 
> **707: if anything happens…**
> 
> **707: please come to this chatroom**
> 
> **[MC]: Okay!**

 

It might be all he can do, after this, but… he’ll do his best to watch over you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's Day One of Seven's side of the story completed.
> 
> Gahhh, I'm really looking forward to Day Two onwards, when the flirting gets started, ehehehehehe.


	3. Day two: Very early morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven creates a glorious work of art, and thinks some things he really shouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to change the font colour to show when characters use glowing text in chat, but AO3 seems to not accept CSS styles or font tags to mark up text. Totally understandable, but a bit disappointing T_T Might supplement with modded chatroom screenshots down the track to make up for it. For now I've added ~*~ to indicate the glow effect. Modified chat bubbles I can live without but the glowing text is often a really important indicator, didn't want to lose it.

## Day two: Very early morning

It’s beautiful. A work of art.

Seven places another chip on the stack he’s slowly been building next to his keyboard over the past few hours. Every time he finds a trace of a new hack attempt on one of his servers, he adds a chip. Two chips if the hack attempt is even halfway competent. Three chips if it looks like the work of an actual human being and not just an automated attack. And now…

_Nearly there! Just two, maybe three more chips to go! Come on, you cockroaches~!_

He’d promised himself once the chip stack reached the height of his monitor, he could take a break and log into the messenger. That said, there’s probably no one there, anyway… it’s not much of a reward if he’s only talking to himself. He can do that here already.

Seven’s phone glints at him, just within reach. It can’t hurt to check if there’s anyone even logged in now, right? If there’s no one there, then he needs to pick a different reward, right?

 

> **RFA chatroom**
> 
> _2 active users: Yoosung_ ★, _[MC]._

 

He glances at the golden tower of Honey Buddha Chips. It was definitely developing a bit of a lean.

_Close enough._

With a single dramatic swipe, Seven sweeps the chip stack off his desk and into the bowl on his lap.

 

> **707 has entered the chatroom**
> 
> **[MC]: Seven, what are you doing up?**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★: **Hello~**
> 
> **707: Wazzup**
> 
> **707: I can’t sleep yet**
> 
> **707: Still trying to find out**
> 
> **707: Who led you to the apartment!**

 

He glances at the last few lines of the chat log. Seems like you and Yoosung have been getting along well. That’s good. You seem like the kind of person Yoosung... hah. Not if he keeps playing games all night.

The three of you discuss the possibility of a future RFA party for a while, until Yoosung starts to get hung up on V again. Good thing he’s so easy to distract.

 

> **707: At times like this,**
> 
> **707: it’d be so nice to get a text from my girlfriend saying,**
> 
> **707: Sweetie, you can do it! >_<**

 

Come on Yoosung, take the bait!

He doesn’t have to wait long.

 

> **Yoosung** ★ **: Seven;;**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: You know that’s not gonna happen loolol**
> 
> **707: I have a girlfriend.**
> 
> **707: You didn’t know?**

 

Seven knows exactly what face Yoosung is making right now. He wonders what expression you have on.

 

> **Yoosung** ★ **: O M G  W H A T?!  I didn’t!**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: For real???;;;;;**
> 
> **707: Yup**
> 
> **707: 606, my imaginary girlfriend living in the world of binary numbers**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: …606?;;**

 

Another, brief pause. Seven scoops up a handful of chips. Has he shocked you into silence?

 

> **[MC]: 110-000-110 & 111-000-111**

 

OMG.

 

> **707: Omg.**

 

OMG!

 

110-000-110 and 111-000-111…

He shouldn’t think about it, but…!

606… seems like it would really suit…

 

> **707: I just**
> 
> **707: imagined something I shouldn’t have**
> 
> **707: inside my head**

 

Dude. Don’t even think it.

 

> **Yoosung** ★ **: What does that mean?**

 

He realises he’s dropped a handful of chips on himself and scrapes them back into the bowl with one hand.

 

> **707: Gahhhhh**
> 
> **707: My heart’s about to pop out!!**
> 
> **[MC]: lololol**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: …;;;**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: [MC];;;**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: Seven’s always like that so don’t get too freaked out.**
> 
> **[MC]: I’m not freaked out,**
> 
> **[MC]: this is cute lol**
> 
> **707: ~*~I am a bit too cute and foxy.~*~**

 

Ahhh, good, you’re having fun. And, it’s not like you suggested that you were – that you and he were. Y’know. Thing. Aha. Hah. _What’s gotten into me? I’m way too jumpy._ Need to sort this hacker thing out soon. Then: sleep.

 

> **Yoosung** ★ **: ;;; You should be careful of Seven**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: Most of the time, you don’t even understand what he’s saying…**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: And he does dangerous things.**
> 
> **707: Don’t worry**
> 
> **707: I like peace.**
> 
> **707: ~*~I love peace.~*~**
> 
> **707: >_<**
> 
> **Yoosung ★ : Then stop abusing Jumin’s cat.**
> 
> **707: I’m only showing her love!  
>  **
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: If that’s the case**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: then your love must be seriously twisted.**
> 
> **[MC]: I love twisted love. OH YEAH~**
> 
> **  
>  **
> 
> **707: I’m always ready.**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★ : Don’t get ready!;;**

 

Haha, is Yoosung jealous? Maybe there’s a chance he’ll spend a little less time on LOLOL after all.

 

> **Yoosung** **★ : OMG**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: RIGHT NOW**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: A RARE BOSS MONSTER APPEARED!!**

 

Or, maybe not.

Yoosung makes some weak excuses and vanishes from the chat within the minute.

Now it’s just the two of you…Ah, no, no. He really should go. He still has so much work left to do, and besides – yeah. You should sleep, and he should work. It’s late. Or early. One of those.

 

> **707: U should go to bed early! >.0**
> 
> **[MC]: Okay, haha. But don’t work too hard. You need sleep too~**
> 
> **707: Haha.**
> 
> **707: ~*~Hearing you say that makes me feel so much better.~*~**

 

Better get back to sifting that internet silt, looking for any further hints about the hacker. But… it’s not so bad. He feels so energised now.

YEAH.

He! Can! Work! All! Night!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the OMG triplet, it made me laugh, so, it stays!
> 
> This one was a bit chat-heavy, but, it's a really fun chat <3
> 
> I'll be posting the next part later today, so look forward to it~ Just need to do a little more polishing. This is what I'm doing on my lunch breaks at work haha.


	4. Day two: morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Seven has collected all the evidence he needs to declare you completely safe for the RFA. No connections to the hacker. But when he lets you know, you come out with a request he was not expecting at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on you're going to see more and more heavily modified chats/calls. MC and Seven are going to have more lines of dialogue with each other. We'd all say more to Seven if we weren't under the constraints of an otome game choice selection screen, right?

## Day two: morning

He! Has! Worked! All! Night!

So… tired…. But now he’s certain. You’re not a threat to the RFA.

Seven flips his phone over (having it face-up kept tempting him to log back in) and opens up the messenger. No one is there. He really needs to write a chatbot to bounce off of when it’s quiet like this.

No. It’s fine. An audience makes venting more fun, but he can work with this.

> **707: So dayum tired…**
> 
> **707: M A Y D A Y  M A Y D A Y !**
> 
> **[MC] has entered the chatroom**
> 
> **[MC] a;ejag;ifjdklv!!**

A grin manages to break through Seven’s bleary, sleep-deprived mask.

> **707: Oooh**
> 
> **707: A survivor!!**
> 
> **[MC]: What’s up meow? Over.**

He gives you the good news – you’re safe! You’re totally safe! No connections to the hacker whatsoever. Seven’s glad he got to tell you directly.

>             **707: It should probably be V to say this, but…**
> 
> **707: Welcome to the RFA**
> 
> **707: officially this time, lol**

He looks up at his monitor, and finds himself maximising that photo of you and the ginger cat again. You look so hopeful, so patient. It seems like even just looking at a photo of you can make the temperature of the room change. You’ll be an interesting party coordinator.

Seven hopes the fluffy fuzzball in the photo stopped ignoring you eventually. You’d look so cute with it curled up on your lap.

He’s tempted to bring up a few of the dorky photos he found during the background checks… but no. Gotta make those last. The photos don’t all need to be deleted straight away… right?  He’s _still_ saving that hilarious one of Zen in full blown allergy mode from the last party. Not to mention that latest maid set from his last mission. Oh yes. Timing is important. Wait until the battle is at its peak, then deploy your surprise ammunition!

Besides, you haven’t posted any photos of yourself into chat so far. It wouldn’t be right for him to do that if you weren’t comfortable with being seen by the other members just yet. Maybe after everyone has met you at the upcoming party, whenever that is.

So, no sharing photos of you. That said. Maybe the snotty photo of Zen, ahahahaha… that’s a good RFA initiation gift for the new member. He offers to show you, but:

>             **[MC]: Don’t you have any photos of you?**
> 
> **707: Me!?**
> 
> **707: You… you want to see me!?**
> 
> **707: Not satisfied with my profile pic!?**
> 
> **[MC]: I’m not!!**
> 
> **[MC]: It’s too small T_T**

Glancing at the photo of you again – well, it’s true he’s seen a lot more of you than you have of him. Are you that curious? Well, it can’t hurt for you to have another one.

>             **707: if you want it that much**
> 
> **707: >.<**
> 
> **[](http://talesfromelectriceve.com/hosted_images/HisSide_04_06_large.png)**
> 
> **[OF COURSE Seven posts THAT PRESENTATION PHOTO because THAT PHOTO AHAHA THIS GUY WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME]**
> 
> **[MC]: Oooh~**
> 
> **[MC]: Seven… is secretly a cool anime character!**
> 
> **707: Haha lol**

Smiling, Seven leans back in his chair. It feels a little nice, that you wanted to see him too. Now you’re even, right? You’ve both seen each other on CCTV and in a -

>             **[MC]: Could this be… my next phone background?!**
> 
> **[MC]: lol jk**
> 
> **[MC]: it already is lol**
> 
> **[MC]: not really lol**
> 
> **[MC]: but maybe?!**
> 
> **707: lololol**
> 
> **707: u should use a photo of honey buddha chips instead**
> 
> **707: or not**
> 
> **707: u might want to eat ur phone lol**

_Gaahhh._ Now he wants to sneakily check on your phone and see if you actually _did_ set it as your background. He can imagine you doing that, then showing it off to everyone at the party until they laugh or roll their eyes. You might only have known each other a couple days, but it already feels like you’ve met. He’s learned so much about you. Hopefully he’ll have time to make some emoji for you soon. You’re a full member, now!

Still, though. The thought of Zen, decked out in his finest party gear, grabbing your phone and wailing “What?! What’s this background?! Let me make a much better one for you!!!” makes him smirk a little. The next party can’t come soon enough.

_But what if I check her phone and she hasn’t actually done it? Or it’s a picture of someone else? Wouldn’t that be… kinda sad?_

It’s really too tempting to open a window and start snooping. _That would be wrong._ Yes, definitely wrong. _But I really wanna know~!_ Still wrong. He exhales slowly and tries to release all the thoughts along with his breath.

He’s been talking to you way longer than he anticipated. He only came in to complain and let everyone know they can trust you. Better get back to it. Working. Not checking your phone. Definitely working. Yup.

>             **[MC]: Don’t go T_T**
> 
> **707: T_T**
> 
> **707: I’ll be back! lol**
> 
> **707 Have a great day! >.<**

The messenger closed, he stretches long in his chair, curling his toes and spreading his fingers wide.

He feels so relaxed… so warm… so zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't reveal if MC has really set her background to THAT PHOTO of Seven yet, but I can tell you he's on both my background and my lock screen, haha~
> 
> I'm experimenting with how much I indent chats, hit me up if the spacing is too hard to read!


	5. Day two: afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven deploys his latest weapon in distracting the RFA members from asking about his actual life.

Could it be?!

Could Seven Zero Seven… Defender of Justice… have taken a whole five hours off to sleep?!?

Aaah~! Feels so good! ❤ A sleep without dreams – rare and precious.

Seven logs onto the messenger and catches up on the last few hours. Ooh, everyone’s curious about Vanderwood, huh? Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it, but… no. This is perfect! Finally, it’s time! Time to deploy the maid pictures! Mwahahahahahah~

And even better, you’re there in chat too.

> **707: I guess no one knew I had a maid?**
> 
> **707: I should introduce her at this chance!**
> 
> **[](http://www.talesfromelectriceve.com/hosted_images/HisSide_5_12_large.png)**
> 
> **707: tada!**
> 
> **707: Mary Vanderwood 3 rd**
> 
> **707: ~*~She’s pretty right?~*~**
> 
> **707: ~*~She’s cute right?~*~**
> 
> **707: She’s so adorable, right? lolololol**

You’ve already called him beautiful, are you going to call him pretty now, too? After all, this one is his greatest masterpiece to date, you’re definitely going to –

>             **[MC]: Wow!**
> 
> **[MC]: So cute!**

Yes! Haha!

> **[MC]: Seven’s cute!**
> 
> **[MC]: how did you do ur eyes so prettyyyyy~**

W-wow~ She saw right through it this time~

_So… is that the kind of thing she likes…? Or… is she just saying that because it’s a photo of m-_

Hahaha, you’re just playing along, right? That's just how you are. He knows… you’d say that to anyone. _It’s not because it's you, genius._

> **707: Ooh.**
> 
> **707: haha**
> 
> **707: hahaha**
> 
> **707: ~Our little secret! >.<~**
> 
> **707: Shh.**

Well, he might have lost his chance to fool anyone else in the RFA now, but… he isn’t disappointed at all. At all! This battle… it was the perfect time to deploy! But the enemy is strong! They saw through his moves and launched a swift counterattack!!! He’s going to have to plan something special for you in return, isn’t he? The next battle… will be even more intense! He will not lose! **  
**

> **[MC]: …but…**
> 
> **[MC]: should I change my phone background again**
> 
> **[MC]: so soon?**
> 
> **[MC]: maybe the lockscreen**

Um.

> **707: lololol**
> 
> **707: sry but it’s not gonna have a good contrast**
> 
> **707: u won’t be able to read the numbers**

Ah… this is fun, but he should probably put a dampener on everyone’s questions, including yours. It’s natural that a new RFA member would remind everyone of how little Seven shared about his day to day life.

It’s important to remember that all of this could all go away, if he isn’t careful. The parties, the messenger, the RFA, you…

_But if I’m extra, extra careful… maybe this can last a long time. I don’t deserve it. I know that. But I don’t want to let it go._

_Just let me have this one thing. I won’t ask for anything more._

Really, he’s so grateful to you. Everyone has been rejuvenated by your arrival. They’re logging in more, calling more, texting more! In just two days! He’d avoided thinking about it, but a rock had been in his stomach since Rika died. This heavy, dark feeling… that RFA would end. The one thing in his life he could smile about. The only good thing he has ever done. _The only family I’m allowed to have._

If this all works out, if the party happens… the RFA will be saved.

He’s so glad you accepted everyone so easily.

He’s so glad it was you who received the mysterious messages.

But, that’s the thing, isn’t it? You’re so trusting. So many people wouldn’t have come this far. You don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to trust strange people like him. It’s important that you don’t get too curious.  Better to make that clear now, while you’re still getting to know each other.

>             **707: It doesn’t matter if I get hurt doing what I do,**
> 
> **707: but if others get involved,**
> 
> **707: they’ll be in danger as well.**
> 
> **[MC]: Aight. Just let me know what you feel safe telling me.**

The rock in his stomach... it’s still there, but, lighter. He feels that way when he hears your voice, too. You understand. He loves that he doesn’t need to spell everything out for you to take a hint. The wounds from Rika’s death aren't mended yet, but RFA is healing, and it’s all thanks to you. Seven’s glad you understand how important it is not to dig too deep.

>             **707: I feel like u understand me a lot.**
> 
> **707: It’s always tough and lonely to handle secrets,**
> 
> **707: but thx for understanding…**

The rock in his stomach grumbles. Oh. Wait. No. Maybe it isn’t a rock? Yeah. He’s hungry. This is hunger~ Oh well. Time to log out and crack open a new box of snacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I'd experimented in this chapter by including both transcripts AND image mock-ups of the chats (using this awesome template: http://zentherainbowunicorn.tumblr.com/tagged/mm-chat-edits ) for this chapter. However, it did take a lot of time to mock up the modified chats (that I could have used to write) and it also made reading a little more difficult (the constant images broke up the flow of the fic). So I've now removed the chatroom images and just left the CG. So if you read any comments talking about the chatroom images, they're from before this happened (22nd November 2016 ^^;)


	6. Day two: evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betrayed by the Honey Buddha chips, Seven seeks comfort from the messenger, and finds it increasingly difficult to stop messaging you...

## Day two: evening

Seven is holding his keyboard upside down, emptying Honey Buddha Chip crumbs (mostly) into the bin beneath. He may… he may have dropped an open bag on it earlier… when he saw Zen’s chat messages.

Zen… even though [MC]… [MC] _gave away the game_ … Zen fell for the maid photo.

RFA… truly, it has been revived. Seven raises the back of his hand to his right eye to wipe away a remaining tear of laughter.

“Gahhhhh!”

He… he may have just stabbed himself in the face with an extra-pointy, uh. What _was_ that? A chip crumb? This isn’t fair. He already had a headache from the last few hours of a particularly tedious piece of agency work. He still hasn’t identified the mysterious hacker who lead you to the RFA. And now this, too. This betrayal of the Honey Buddha chips.

>             **707: Aaaarrrghhh**
> 
> **707: My face hurts**
> 
> **707: My head hurts**
> 
> **707: And I have too much work!**
> 
> **707: Too much!!**
> 
> **[MC]: Cheer up Seven O Seven! Sevenny! Sevv! Lovely Seven!**
> 
> **707: ~*~Lo-lovely…?~*~**
> 
> **[Seven’s cheering emoji]**
> 
> **707: ~Thank you sweetie~**

How have you only been in his life a little over two days? Chatting to RFA members has always been a good way to lift his mood, but now that you’re here he’s logging on more often than he opens the door to one of his babe cars. As soon as he feels the least bit bored, or tired, or wants to goof off, he starts ~~thinking about you~~ opening the messenger. Maybe it’s just that he’s had more stress to push through lately. There are a lot of tasks competing for his attention.

He avoids looking at the status of the latest piece of work displayed on a nearby monitor.

>             **707: Seriously,**
> 
> **707: I have so much work these days.**
> 
> **707: I wanna get rid of my stress…**
> 
> **707: I wanna mess with someone…!!**
> 
> **Jumin Han has entered the chatroom**
> 
> **[MC]: Oh! Someone’s here!**

Seven is still rubbing at his face with one hand, which only makes the scratch feel worse. _Can’t believe the Honey Buddha chips betrayed me._ That said, considering what else could have dropped into his keyboard over time, maybe it was something else caused the scratch. Yeah. That’s gotta be it. _Honey Buddha chips, I can never stay mad at you~_

> **Jumin Han: ?**
> 
> **707: Jumin!!**
> 
> **707: I waited for you!!**
> 
> **Jumin Han: Oh.**
> 
> **Jumin Han: You just said, “I want to mess with someone” right before I came.**
> 
> **Jumin Han: Are you trying to mess with me?**

You and Seven make a perfect team. Jumin must enjoy talking to you, too, because he tolerates far more of Seven’s prodding into his personal life than he usually would. Although he still won’t give even a sliver of information. That’s fine, that’s fine. Seven’s not in it for the info. Mostly. It’s the pursuit…ah. Jumin finally leaves, after accusing Seven of being way too hyper.

 _A-am I over-doing it? I’m not hyper. This is normal. Regular. Good. Dandy. I’m -_  

>             **[MC]: But Seven, have you ever had a girlfriend before?**

_\- just fine._

He stares at your question.

_…I’m the high priest of the Forever-Alones. Their icon. All Forever-Alones follow in my footsteps. I am the platonic ideal of being utterly unavoidably -_

> **707: Me?**
> 
> **707: Me?!**
> 
> **707: Hahaha. I’ve already been married.**
> 
> **[MC]: …**
> 
> **[MC]: …to the world of binary numbers, right?**

Seriously. How has it only been two days and a night since you stumbled onto the app? He can’t fool you twice with anything.

> **707: Gahh**
> 
> **707: Don’t expose my secrets**
> 
> **707: So this is how Jumin felt**
> 
> **707: I should go back to work**
> 
> **707: as the top secret agent now.**
> 
> **[Seven’s depressed emoji]**
> 
> **[MC]: ^^**
> 
> **[MC]: sry sry**
> 
> **[MC]: I’ll make it up to u**
> 
> **707: haha**
> 
> **707: no need**

He glances at the closest monitor. Yup. Looks like the data his boss asked for is ready to be checked out. He nudges two empty PhD Pepper cans between himself and the screen. It doesn’t help. He can still see the message.

> **707: I wanna talk moreeeeeee**
> 
> **707: so much fun hanging out with uuuuuuuuuuu**
> 
> **[MC]: then don’t go T_T**
> 
> **707: I really don’t wanna go either**
> 
> **707: But if I don’t listen to my boss**
> 
> **707: he might handcuff me to**
> 
> **707: the desk T_T**
> 
> **707: I’ll go protect world peace now.**
> 
> **707: See u later!**
> 
> **707: Have a good evening >_<**

Just as soon as he’s closing the chatroom, though, he finds himself opening the text message screen and pinging off a few more messages to you.

[Bingley beep~!]  Ah, you replied already!

>             “ **We’re official allies! Let’s do this, Captain Seven!!”**

Ehehehehehe. He rotates his chair so he can’t see the monitor any more. Knees pulled up to his chest, feet on his chair, face set to “scheme”, he bargains with himself. Just five minutes? He’ll work non-stop all night, so five minutes is nothing. Five minutes will hurt no one. Even… even ten minutes would be fine.

It’d be a shame to waste the idea he just had. And messing with you will put him in a better mood for working the night away. Definitely. It’s fine, it’s fine.

Five minutes. Just five.

You answer his call immediately. He puts on his best Jumin impression for you, and you play along with him for a bit. Although you aren’t doing a very good job of muffling your giggles.

Struggling to stay in character, he switches over to a new voice. “Your trial version of Jumin’s voice service has expired. What a shame. From now on, you will be charged one Honey Buddha chip bag every ten seconds. Do you wish to continue?”

Barely a beat passes before you respond. “No! No! Bring 707!”

Seven hugs his knees closer with his free arm, leaning forward, his entire body curled inward towards the sound of your voice. He can’t help but let out a goofy giggle at your enthusiasm. “Hahaha… you missed me. Here I am in all my glory!!”

_This is fine, right? It’s okay to be a little happy about this, right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES, FINALLY! The next chapter will be Day Three i.e. the first day that actually made me blush while writing the first draft :D
> 
> Seven's going to have to work a lot harder to avoid thinking about how much he likes you from now on because you are not letting up, haha (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。


	7. Day three: very early morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven is alone under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using quotation marks for texts to differentiate them slightly from chats, I hope it doesn't look too weird!

## Day three: very early morning

Staring at the ceiling is preferable to staring at the progress bar on his monitor. Even so, Seven’s eyes ache. Closing them doesn’t help. He wasn’t expecting this early morning lull between tasks, but, here he is. On the bed. Staring at the ceiling. In the dark. This is a perfect opportunity to rest. Who knows when an urgent client request could come in and ruin his life for days. 

But.

He.

Can’t.

Sleep.

Part of his agency training involved techniques for catching sleep, even in high stress situations. Meditation, mental tricks. Certain phrases and actions. Sedation isn’t an option, of course. Too hard to shake off at short notice.

None of it is working. So he stares up at the ceiling, which gently illuminates his expression with the light of over five hundred glow in the dark stars. He knows. He’s counted. (The part where he purchased exactly five packs of “ **101 Glow Stars! Dream a Dream of Space!! AGES 5+** ” might have helped him with that estimate, too.)

Without his glasses, he can still make out the constellations. They just look a little more like the patterns a dream would make, less like individual points of light. Everything is that little bit out of reach, that little bit unreal. It’s beautiful. The light pollution from his array of monitors in the next room adds to the feeling. The glare of civilisation threatening the gentle radiance of the night. And him, exhausted, stuck between the two of them.

He tries to focus on the familiar shapes in his own personal galaxy. There’s the Foolish Traveller constellation. The Dancing Cat. The Space Station…

He shuffles upwards, slouching into a pillow against the wall. His glasses and phone are in his hands before he’s even decided what he wants to do next.

Well. Maybe there’s someone in the messenger?

> **RFA chatroom**
> 
>             0 active users

Maybe he could text Yoosung. That slacker is probably still gaming. If he isn’t, he’ll just sleep through the message alert anyway. Seven knows this very well. The times Yoosung has fallen asleep in Seven’s car on the way home from a party and then been almost impossible to awaken demonstrated that much. One time Seven managed to even carry Yoosung like a bride all the way to his apartment door, before the zombie-like RFA member had woken enough to protest. Back then, Yoosung had flailed so hard he’d knocked Seven’s glasses off into a neighbour’s pot plant. Then the two of them had to blindly and dopily search for them in the dark until said neighbour came to the door, concerned there were vandals at work.

Good times, good  times.

Seven arches his back a little to allow the muscles supporting him to tense and relax again, as he sends the text to Yoosung.

>             707: “One star… two stars… one Yoosung… two Yoosungs…”

…Yoosung…

…Yoosung…

…why is Yoosung’s name… not on the screen?

 _Crap. Crap crap crap crap crap._ He hunches over again and pulls the covers up around his shoulders, covering  both his arms and the phone.

He texts Yoosung more than anyone else. He’s used to just opening up the most recent contact… but it’s not Yoosung _. It’s not Yoosung!_

It’s you.

Maybe you won’t hear it? There’s no way you’d be awake –

[Bingley beep~!] A muffled tone rings out from under the sheets.

He almost doesn’t want to look. He imagines you jolted awake to see such a useless message. How could he have been so stupid? _Idiot, idiot, IDIOT!_

The blinking reminder of his mistake shows up through the top bedsheet. [Bingely beep~! Bingely beep~!] Great. Now it’s three messages. Maybe you were so mad at him you couldn’t express it in just one. His arm is bathed in green starlight as he shakes it free from the blankets to look at his phone.

>             [MC]: “Oh! Are you outside right now? It’s so cold!!!”

That’s… not so bad.

>             [MC]: “I was wondering if you were still awake…”
> 
>             [MC]: “I’m glad I didn’t put my phone on silent yet! ^^”

He stares upwards at the Dancing Cat constellation. _God. I know we don’t talk as much as we should. But. Thank you. THANK YOU. I’ll work twice as hard tomorrow to be worth this gift, I swear._

Deep breaths. It’s fine. _She’s not mad._

_She’s… happy._

Oh. He’d better respond before you worry.

>             707: “I’m lying on my bed and counting glow in the dark stars on my ceiling, but I can’t sleep!!!”
> 
>             707: “what should I do??”

He wonders what you’re doing right now. Maybe gaming? Seven knows you have a Scheam account. The apartment has a fantastic connection speed so -

>             [MC]: “Hmmmm. God must want us to talk more  ヽ(〃･ω･)ﾉ”

Seven can’t help but shoot another quick glance up towards his starry ceiling.

>             707: “omg. I didn’t know there was such a deep intention.”
> 
>             [MC]: “We’re the heroes! We have to fight back-to-back, meow~!”
> 
>             707: “we’re like sticky rice cake that can’t ever be pulled apart”
> 
>             [MC]: “Ooh! I’m gonna be the south end of the rice cake magnet!”
> 
>             [MC]: “You can be the north!”
> 
>             707: “our frequencies are finely tuned”
> 
>             707: “a perfect couple like PhD Pepper and Honey Buddha chips?”

_606 and 707…_

>             707: “Texting you makes me more excited!! I don’t think I can sleep!!”

In the real world, this would be dangerous. But in the world of ones and zeroes… in the place between the humans either side of the screen. It’s okay for the two of you to be like this.

 _You keep telling yourself that._ He pushes his glasses back, and sighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven, please step out from the world of ones and zeroes and visit us T_T


	8. Day three: morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a cat in his pocket, and he's happy to see you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to truly start the cycle of [joke]-[flirt]-[blush]-[bluster]-[run away!!!] that is Day 3 and 4.

## Day three: morning

“I’m dead. R.I.P. me,” Seven announced to his reflection in the microwave door. Sticking out his tongue – _more like an unwashed honey-filled sock,_ _ugh_  – he stares at the outline of his face. Microwave-Seven seems like he could use a nap. Or at least three minutes on the defrost setting. He rests his head against the cool glass and shuts his eyes.

_Still functioning, though._ A little pride sneaks in, despite his ragdoll arms feeling like they’re going to drag him to the centre of the earth. He might be dead tired, but his brain was working just fire... uh, fine. Fine is what he is. _Just fine._

He opens his eyes, forehead still pressed up against the microwave. It takes him a moment to focus on the ground. _Huh._

At his feet, chip crumbs. He turns his head ever so slightly. The fragments of Honey Buddha chips form a trail that leads all the way back into the main computer room.

A trail of chip crumbs… yeah. Just follow the crumbs home, follow them back to your family of ones and zeros… to your two cruel parents: work and more work. _A Hansel without Gretel… or, am I the Gretel without a Hansel?_ Not like he couldn’t do both.

Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s alone in the witch’s house. Surrounded by candy, sure. But also: working for the witch.

“Gyah…” he kicks the cupboard door by his feet, weakly. He should work. Work’s the only thing that can take his mind off of. Well. How much he hates work. Because that makes sense.

Live to work. Work to live. He doesn’t get a choice. This is as good as it gets. _God, I’m pathetic today…_

His pocket meows.

Oh, yeah. Right. He customised your text tone.

Seven channels his remaining strength to his right arm… _back-up power… activate_ … and slowly drags his phone from his jeans pocket, head still pressed against the microwave. Another laborious second and his finger flicks the screen on.

>             [MC]: “One Seven… Two Sevens… Three Sevens… how many Sevens can I             count… before I see a new Seven?!”

Well, aren’t you cryptic today. “Heh… what’s up with you, pocket-kitty?” He straightens up and rubs at the microwave door dent on his forehead, then wipes at his eyes. Oh, good. Oil prints on his glasses. Seven turns and presses his back into a kitchen cupboard, wiping his glasses on the hem of his shirt. He re-reads your message, and taps out a quick reply.

>             707: “Seven squared? Seven cubed? Seven sphered? lolol”

He scrolls back up through your conversation from the night before. It already feels so long ago. Like reading a story that happened to someone else. _But it did happen to me._

>             [MC]: “Ooh, a Seven-sphere. Sounds cuddly~”
> 
>             [MC]: “Let’s roll around the world!!”
> 
>             707: “You’ll make me dizzy lol.”

He’s only half joking. The body his mind is so tenuously linked to right now has gone from feeling like dead weight to a dizzy haze. Ghost-Seven. R.I.P. was right.

>             [MC]: “Look at this!”

His phone shows a blank rectangle for a few moments as it downloads an image. Ah…

It’s you. You’re leaning backwards into an empty pantry cupboard, scrunching your face up into an exaggerated mask of suffering, tongue stuck out at an uncomfortable-looking angle.

>             [MC]: “Soooo hungryyyyyy”

He straightens up, smiling. What. _What._ Grimacing only makes you cuter? How does that work? Hmmm. Across the room, there’s an open Honey Buddha chip box. Heh. He wants to see you pull even more faces.

He sends you back a photo of his face next to a bag of Honey Buddha chips.

>          [](http://talesfromelectriceve.com/hosted_images/HisSide_08_01_large.png)
> 
>             707: “Aww, poor kitty. I’m snack-rich lolol. U jelly?”         
> 
>             [MC]: “So jelly! I wish I had some of those chips too! T_T”
> 
>             707: “lolololol”
> 
>             707: “I’d like to give u a box, but I can’t right now”
> 
>             707: “I’ll give it to u when we meet ^^”

He drops the chip packet back into the box and leans against the counter, scrolling back up to your photo. It’s been a long time since he saw that kitchen. No expense had been spared on Rika’s apartment – it was much bigger than average, and the kitchen was enviable. He might not do a lot of cooking himself, but Mister Chef had taught him a thing or two about top-tier kitchenware. V had wanted everything to be perfect for Rika. It didn’t seem like she’d ever done any cooking there, though. Did Rika clear everything out before she -?

He turns his thoughts back to you, and chips. It would be good if there was a party soon. It’s the only chance he’ll have to give you anything. Maybe he could decorate an entire box? With a ribbon made of empty chip packets? No, he’d rather give you a cuter ribbon, maybe with a little bell… then you could keep it for your hair… or maybe… a necklace…

> [MC]: “Yaaaaaaaay! I can’t wait to meet you and your chips lol”
> 
>             707: “lolololol”
> 
>             707: “but”
> 
>             707: “don’t eat too many snacks lol”
> 
>             707: “I recommend snacks to people like me and Yoosung”
> 
>             707: “who are stupid or lost or have no reason to live. lol”

Seven leaves the kitchen, and heads to the couch in the main work room. _Can’t shake this dizzy feeling_. He should probably relax for a little bit until his head stops spinning.

>             [MC]: “>.<”
> 
>             [MC]: “ok lol”
> 
>             [MC]: “I’m going to go to the store soon anyway, I’ll get something good~✰”
> 
>             [MC]: “Now that I’m staying here I ‘m gonna fill up the cupboards with snacks!”
> 
>             [MC]: “uh I mean”
> 
>             [MC]: “I’ll try not to buy too many snacks lol”
> 
>             [MC]: “~*~maybe a few  just in case I need to launch them into orbit 4 u~*~”
> 
>             [MC]: “~*~I’ll send u a snack satellite ❤~*~”
> 
>             707: “ooh!”
> 
>             707: “~*~is this the manna from heaven~*~”
> 
>             707: “~*~i have been waiting for? lol~*~”
> 
>             [MC]: “I’m gonna head out now… wish me luck on my mission!!!”
> 
>             707: “Oooh! Good luck on ur assignment soldier”
> 
>             707: “I’ll stay behind to hold off the enemy!!”
> 
>             707: “I’ll cover u… so don’t worry >_<”
> 
>             707: “lol”
> 
>             [MC]: “thank you”
> 
>             [MC]: “I’ll never forget… your bravery!”
> 
>             [MC]: “laterz meow”

Oh, man. He drops his phone onto the cushion beside him and stretches his arms out till his shoulderblades meet, opening and closing his fingers a few times. The dizzy feeling has moved through his head to his feet, and back again. It’s not unpleasant. Almost like being brushed lightly by fingertips…

Nyan Cat noisily disrupts his thoughts _. N-nyan~?_

The photo of you and the fluffy ginger cat appears on his phone, the pickup prompt blinking.

The first time he taps it to answer, it doesn’t respond. He taps the accept call symbol again, harder, his pulse quickening. _Come on!_

“Seeeveeeen~” you sing, “hi hi~”

You’re too cute. The feeling of fingertips on his skin, again. Everything he was thinking vanishes into the ether.

“Beep beep beep~ You have one percent battery life left. Beep beep beep~”

You respond instantly. “CHARGE!”

He rolls onto his stomach, trying to ignore the continued tickling sensation. “Is that an order, Captain?!”

“Soldier!!!” you shout a little too excitedly into his ear. “Requesting backup on my mission, meow~”

He pauses a second, and nudges a cushion from the couch onto the floor with one sock-foot. “Hahaha. Do you want me to come shopping with you? I can’t, you know! I have too much work! My battery is drained flat!”

“No, no,” you reply quickly “I just wanted to keep talking for a while. Just while I walk to the store? Keep me company? It’s less lonely when I talk to you~”

Oh… you were lonely? He thinks about the photo of you, pulling that ridiculous face in front of Rika’s cupboards. Empty cupboards, in an empty room, in an empty apartment. You must feel like you’re camping there, not being able to touch half the things around you. He hasn’t been _watching_ per se, but he knows you’ve only left a couple times since you first stumbled on the chatroom. Doesn’t seem like you’ve brought many of your own possessions back with you from that handful of trips. It must feel like sleeping on a friend’s couch for the night… but with no end in sight… and no friends.

Of course you’re lonely. He rests his chin on his free hand and stares at the couch arm. There’s chip crumbs on that, too.

You continue. “Uh… I mean, if you’re too busy, I understand. I don’t want to be a-”

_I can’t let her go like this!_ If you hang up now, he’s going to call you back.

“No! It’s fine, it’s fine~ My powers are diminished… but I can listen to you! Tell me a story… what are you seeing? What are you going to buy? Is it nice outside?”

You happily comply and begin describing the sunlight, the trees, the smell of bread coming from nowhere in particular. _The weather is warm_ , you say. He feels it. _My nose was freezing_ , you add, _but now the sun is on my face and my body is finally waking up_. He sees you, lit up with golden light, smiling. _I wish you were here_ , you say, _there’s a really cute puppy.._.

_I wish…_

Despite giving you his full attention, the story lulls him with its rhythm. He listens to the music, missing the words. Your voice tilts up into a questioning note, bringing him back to reality. You’re planning on buying a USB wifi hub, so you can use your laptop at Rika’s apartment without tethering to your phone any more.

“I know I can’t touch Rika’s computer,” you explain. “But doing everything on my phone is draining my data! It would suck if I couldn’t connect to the messenger while planning the party!”

“Oh!” he interjects, “Sorry!” Breaking out of his trance, he props himself back up and grabs the leg of the nearby coffee table. He drags it closer to the couch, until he can reach the laptop sitting on top. Laptop retrieved and on his knees, he starts typing with his free hand. “Rika’s apartment is actually pretty robust when it comes to all that! There’s already an internet connection. Two, in fact! I’ll have to lock down a few more things first-” he pushes his fringe out of his eyes “- but I should be able to get something sorted for you, no problem~”

He throws a new task into his growing work-list. Ideally he’d configure your laptop himself but he’s confident you’ll be able to follow his instructions. And he’ll be sure the device has zero access to anything else running on the apartment network.

“I’ll send you through some info you’ll need to get from your laptop so I can allow it specifically to connect! If you change anything in it – new hard drive, new network card – we’ll have to do this again, because the Defender of Justice’s security standards are TOP NOTCH. Be warned!!!”

“Oohhh okay, I understand! Thank you so much, Seven!”

Seven bumps the task to the top of his list. “I gotta warn you though,” he teases, “if you connect through that network, your laptop will become mine… are you prepared?”

“Oh!” You sound unfazed. “I guess I should password-protect a couple of my folders to safeguard my **super-precious** and **extremely interesting** secrets!”

He grins. “O-o-oh, are you trying to make me curious?” He hums into the receiver. “You don’t want me getting cu-ri-ous!”

The smile in your voice is easy to hear. “Well, maybe I want you to go looking~! And besides, God Seven will forgive all my sins, if he finds any, right? Right?”

“Uh,” he responds, trying hard not to think too hard about the sorts of sins he might find on your hard drive. “God Seven thinks you should type eight binary Hail Marys into a text file and save it to your desktop, just in case.”

Your subsequent giggle makes him mentally upgrade that to **at least** 24 Hail Marys. “It’s okay Seven, you can have all my info!” You throw out a few SNS usernames (yup, he had those already) “-and,” your voice lowers a little “my three measurements are-“

He grabs at his laptop to stop it falling off his knees. “W-woah! Dude~! S-stop right there! D-don’t tell a guy that on the phone!”

“Oh… so I should only tell you in person? Okay~!” You are enjoying this WAY too much. Do you understand how red he is now?!

“Gah! Don’t tell me at all! God Seven does not need to speculate or record for posterity your-”

You’re laughing even harder, and he has to take the phone away from his ear for a second to regain his composure.

“You...” he breathes out slowly. “You’re a dangerous opponent! Got a bit too worked up there for a second…” He throws a guilty glance ceiling-wards. “Anyway. Sorry... I really need to get back to work, okay? I’ll send you some instructions on the info I need from your laptop before you get back home.”

You delay him a little longer – “but I’m almost there! Um! At the store, I mean!” – but you acquiesce quickly enough and say goodbye. 

“Hey, before I go, thanks for talking to me. I hope I didn’t get you too behind on your work.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I think your voice recharged me a little. Thanks, haha.”

Recharged is one word for it. If it was normal to charge batteries by striking them directly with lightning! Still, though. He feels good. A little shaky, maybe. But. Good.

It would have been nice to go shopping with you, though. But at least he can help with the laptop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The MC thirst... is real.
> 
> (And just a reminder I'll always announce them on Twitter via @707mifrass if you don't have an A03 account and want a notification!)


	9. Day three: afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven considers writing a song for you. Meanwhile, you continue advancing your plans to build a snack satellite for Seven, with the help of ~~the cat man~~ Jumin Han.

## Day three: afternoon

It’s… still empty.

Seven’s not sure what he expected. He was only in here a few hours ago. He bumps the kitchen cupboard door shut. The concept of leaving the house to buy food is even less appealing than listening to a voicemail from his boss. Maybe he **should** have gone shopping with you.

Haha. Right. As if he has time to leave the house.

Nothing for it. Time to try out his latest culinary sensation. He opens the freezer and pulls out an unopened bag of Honey Buddha chips. _I call it… Ice Chips._

Should he drink it with warm PhD Pepper to mix things up? Hmmm. No. One experiment at a time. A little cloud of ice particles covers his glasses as he busts open the chip bag.

…

Slightly damper than before, Seven settles in front of his largest monitor array, wireless keyboard on his lap, a slowly defrosting Honey Buddha chip bag on the desk. Time to do some more work…

…yeah…

…work…

…going to do some… work…

He tabs over to the security camera footage and skips through it to see if you’ve gotten home yet.

Ah, there you are. The relevant part of the recording wasn’t difficult to find, given how long it takes you to struggle through the door of the apartment with your giant backpack and ridiculous armfuls of grocery bags. You… you walked the whole way home with all of that?! Geeze, maybe he should have offered to take you after all. Or at least he could have sent that hopeless boy Yoosung to carry some of it. He’s sure you two would have fun… and then Yoosung might eat something that didn’t come directly out of a bag. _Yeah, sure – if I could tell anyone where the apartment was_. He drums his heels against the legs of his chair. Never mind, then.

Really, he’s the only person who can help you like that right now. _But I can’t go._ Really? Just an hour or two? _Not possible._ If he catches the hacker, he might have a little more time… maybe then?

 _If I can go see her, I want it to be a surprise._ He muses on the different ways he could show up at your door uninvited. Dress up as a deliveryman carrying a huge box, knock on the door, then drop to the ground and pretend to be crushed under the package? Or maybe he could perform a singing telegram? _I could write one myself…_ it could start out like a regular song, but he could sneak more and more little clues and jokes in it until finally you’d realise it was about you. What kind of face would you pull then?

He wants to see them all. Every expression you’ve got.

He glances back at the footage.

Going by the CCTV timestamp, you arrived home an hour ago. You probably haven’t had time to look at the instructions he sent for your laptop yet. He opens the messenger, just in case. Nope. No one there. It’s hard to focus when you’re waiting on someone else. Not that he minds doing things for you. He just doesn’t want to miss you. _And talk more._ Why does he feel so guilty about that last part? There’s nothing wrong with that. _So long as I get my work done, I can talk to her as much as I want._

“Hmmmmm~” He wonders if you’re busy filling all the kitchen cupboards with the spoils from your shopping trip. It would take a while, working out the best spot for everything. _How is she going to reach the high cupboards? She’s shorter than Rika was_. _What if she stands on a box and falls?_

You have your phone, right? You’d call him, right?

 _I wish there were cameras inside, as well. Then I could check on her any time._ Uh. Another blush washes over his face, from the ears down. _Wh-why?!_ There’s nothing embarrassing about seeing someone in a kitchen! _It’s not like she’d be_ – well, he doesn’t know that, does he? Who knows what you do when you’re home alone. What if you’re not even wearing –

“Nope, nope, nope.” He sticks his hand into the chilled Honey Buddha chip packet and comes out with icy chips stuck to both his hand and forearm. “Hah… what the heck… am I even doing? Hahahaha…”

>             **[MC] has entered the chatroom**

_FINALLY._

He posts a photo of his frosty chip arm to the chat. Why not? He’s sure it’ll make you laugh.

>             **[MC]: lolwut**
> 
> **[MC]: what even is that**
> 
> **707: ice chips lol**
> 
> **707: don’t knock them till you try them lol**
> 
> **707: Did u have lunch, [MC]?**
> 
>             **[MC]: s~e~c~r~e~t~**

Oh, he’s **definitely** going to prank you again soon.

>             **707: lololololol**
> 
> **707: ~*~So mysterious~ lololololol~*~**
> 
>             **[MC]: I got ur instructions btw, thank you~**
> 
> **[MC]: I’ll send the info after this**
> 
> **[MC]: then I’m gonna research how to send u a snack satellite lol**
> 
> **[MC]: so keep watching the skies lol**

He rests his chin in one hand (c-cold!) with his elbow on the desk, holding his phone up with the other. What kind of prank could he try next, that doesn’t require leaving the house? You’re onto his cross-dressing, so he can’t use that again too soon, so perhaps instead...

>             **Jumin Han has entered the chatroom**
> 
> **Jumin Han: So bored.**

Jumin’s trapped in a dull lunch with his father’s latest girlfriend, clearly cranky and fed up with playing nice to yet another face that’s bound to disappear a few months later. You and Seven team up to distract him (and entertain yourselves even more).

The security feed is still open on one of his monitors. As the three of you chat, he can’t help but glance up at it every now and again. You’re just on the other side of that door…

But he’s soon distracted by the revelation of yet another of Jumin’s celebrity connections. Mr Chairman’s son is eating the steak of that famous chef from Mister Chef?! AND he’s met Grandpa Lamsey! Outrageous!

>             **[MC]: Jumin, invite them! Invite them to the party!!**
> 
> **Jumin Han: Alright, I’ll tell Assistant Kang to reach them.**
> 
> **Jumin Han: I didn’t realise you were interested in this field, [MC].**
> 
> **[MC]: oh I’m interested**
> 
> **[MC]: ~*~they will be critical to the construction of my snack satellite~*~**
> 
> **Jumin Han: A snack satellite would require the assistance of an engineering team and an astrophysicist also.**
> 
> **Jumin Han: I will make a note to invite some for you should I get the chance.**

He would, too. As both a joke and a genuine desire to help. Because: Jumin. _He really likes her, doesn’t he?_ Elly might be Jumin’s number one, but Seven hasn’t seen him be nearly this friendly to any other human woman. Genuinely friendly. Not you’re-investing-in-our-company friendly.

>             **707: Seriously,**
> 
> **707: so weird;;**
> 
> **Jumin Han: What is?**
> 
> **707: ur still his son,**
> 
> **707: but how can u have**
> 
> **707: none of your father’s lust for women? lolol**
> 
> **[MC]: You don’t think… no way…**
> 
> **707: A complicated story behind his birth?!**
> 
> **Jumin Han: You’ve seen too many soap operas.**

Could Jumin be interested in you? Seven prods him a little harder. He wonders if that’s your type. The aloof, sexy guy. Or are you more into the cute younger guys… or, perhaps, emotional outspoken guys? Or maybe he’s thinking in the wrong direction - an earnest, hard-working girl like Jaehee? _Of course, I’m the mascot character. 707, Defender of Justice, free with every two cans of PhD Pepper purchased!_

Jumin puts up with the teasing a little longer, but quits the chatroom before his lunch is done. And to be honest, now that he’s gotten to speak with you again, Seven could really go for a restorative nap. It’ll be a while longer before you get back to him with the laptop info, anyway. Might as well rest up.

>             **707: I have such an**
> 
> **707: irregular sleep schedule these days T_T**
> 
> **[MC]: Seven, what if you pass out living like that, I’d be so sad T_T**

No need to waste your time worrying for him.

>             **707: it’s all good**
> 
> **707:** h **aving a regular sleep pattern**
> 
> **707: is more awkward for me lol**
> 
> **[MC]: well… good night then**
> 
> **[MC]: ~*~Dream about me.~*~**

He can feel warmth building in his cheeks. Again. _Three times in one day?!_ Maybe he's getting sick.

> **707: I’m not gonna have any dreams >_<**
> 
> **707: lololol**
> 
> **707: JK lolol**
> 
> **707: ~*~Thanks. ~*~**
> 
> **707: Goodnight!**

_Dream about me._ You were just teasing him. He doesn’t need to get so worked up over it. But. _Damn… it’d be nice._ If you were in his dream, he’d wake up in a good mood.

Dreams are safe. No one can blame him for something that happens in a dream. It’s just all the bits of information re-arranging themselves in his head. Plus, you did say you were the south end of the rice ball magnet. Stands to reason, then, that if he thinks about you hard enough, all the neurons in his head will line up. All the electrons following the same path.

He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. Yeah. This could be a great new meditation technique to add to his repertoire.

 _[MC]…_ he brings a picture of you into his mind, but it’s the you grimacing in front of Rika’s cupboards he sees first. He smirks and tries to sink deeper. Focus. Relax. Think about abstract elements, meaningless patterns… the way your hair moves… the colour of your sweater… the way you say his name when you call… the way it’d feel if you were here now… no, no, losing focus, go back to the facts. The shape of your nose. The way you write in the messenger. The ginger cat...

_[MC]… [MC]… I summon you~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, what song do you think Seven would write for the singing telegram? I bet you guys have picked up on where I'm going with that, MWAHAHAHAHA~
> 
> Three more chapters remain for day three - can't wait to get to some of the next flirting scenes [fans self]


	10. Day three: early evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ice chips have not held up well to the test of time, and Seven's stomach is beginning to rebel, too. Is that why his brain gave him such a strange dream?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merged some chats into a single, longer chat, and had text messages appearing alongside rather than after the chat. I hope it is still easy to read!

## Day three: early evening 

Sweaty and bleary-eyed, Seven presses the power button on his phone and checks the time. Ugh. The sun must have just set, somewhere out there.  

His fur is a mess. Fur? Ah, of course. A cat has fur… he was a cat. At least, he was until he woke up. He flexes his fingers experimentally. _Wanna_ _keep them curled up_.  

Then, a hollow feeling. You weren't there. In his dream. _You didn't come to me..._  

Half asleep, he brings up his contacts and presses on your icon.  

It barely even rings. “Seven! Did you manage to sleep?” 

“Meow~ Meow~” he drawls into the phone, chin on his chest. Still bleary, he holds the phone with both paws… hands… to make sure he doesn’t drop it. “I just had such a strange dream where I was a real cat… I woke up to find my hands curled just like a cat’s, meow~ Can you imagine it, meow~” Ahhh, he wants to curl up and go back to sleep again.  

You sound amused. “Uhm… Seven, are you still a cat?” 

“Nope, meow~ I don’t know why I keep saying meow after every sentence...” He takes on a panicked tone. “I-it’s a curse, meow~!! I have the cat’s curse, meow~!!!” 

“Oooh,” you feign fear, “but won’t you be in trouble if you can’t type on a keyboard with your cat paws?” 

Seven lets out a wail. “NoooooOOOOoooo… Seven-cat, don’t gooooo… I feel my energy draining away…” He clears his throat. “Ahem. 707 has returned. I was happy to have been a cat, although it was short.” 

Bit by bit the fog in his brain is lifting. Right… he has a lot to do. And, wait: “Uh… why am I telling you this over the phone? Maybe because the dream felt so real? Ack…” 

“Awww,” you reply, “but I liked hearing about Cat Seven. Cat Seven sounded very cute~ I wanted to stroke him~” 

“Hahah…” Hearing your words makes him feel a little lighter, at least. 

“I guess I’ll just have to stroke the real Seven instead~” 

WHAT. He’s fully awake now.  _[MC] are you trying t_ _o murder me. I only ask because_ _-_  

“Did-did I install an electric shock function in this phone in m-my sleep?” He forces himself to loosen his grip on the phone before he accidentally snaps it in two. “Ahahah… hahah…n-now that m-my hands aren’t curled I should get back to work.” He tries to think about anything other than you stroking him, _anywhere_. The problem with this is, trying not to think about a specific thing requires you to think about the specific thing in order not to think about the specific thing which means you are thinking about the – _ERROR_ _ERROR_ _RESTART_. “Ahhhh… uhhhhh… yeah… I’m going now… taking a break will just create a taller pile...  I have to go take care of my hellish tasks.” 

“Okay, Worker Seven,” you reply sweetly. “If you see Cat Seven, make sure to give him a cuddle for me!” 

“Oh, haha, I will… thanks.” He hangs up. _I’ve been zapped again._ How do you manage to do this to him from so far away? As he takes a steadying breath, he see the bag of what was once ice chips slumping heavily on his desk. 

He… really shouldn’t look inside, should he? 

He picks it up and takes a peek anyway. The ice chips have become a sickly yellow slurry. 

Chip… pudding? No. He’s not that desperate, yet. The bag lands with a satisfying **thump** in the bin by his desk. 

\-----ooOoo----- 

Hours pass, work is done, non-soggy chips are eaten. Seven’s actually surprised at how productive he’s been, given he’s been checking on the messenger users list every twenty minutes or so. Just, you know. To make sure he doesn’t miss anything important.  

> **RFA Messenger**  
> 
> **1 l** **ogged-in user** **:** **Yoosung** ★ 

Well, it’s about time for another break anyway~ 

> **707 has entered the chatroom**  
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: Seven!**  
> 
> **707: hiya** **hiya** **lolol**  
> 
> **Yoosung** ★: **Seven** **… ice chips???;;**  
> 
> **Yoosung** ★: **How could you do that to those rare chips** **;;;;;;;**  
> 
> **Yoosung** ★: **Give them to me if you are going to waste them like that!**  
> 
> **707:** **lololol**  
> 
> **707: don’t stand in the way of science lol**  
> 
> **707: I have boxes of them**  
> 
> **707: so**  
> 
> **707: they’re not that rare to me**  
> 
> **[MC] has logged into the chatroom**  
> 
> **Yoosung** ★: **Boxes?** **How** **did you get them?!**
> 
> **Yoosung** ★: **I need to know! Did you hack the convenience store inventory?;;**  
> 
> **707:** **~** **heya** **[MC]** **~**  
> 
> **[MC]: hey seven~~~ hey** **yoosung** **~~~**  
> 
> **Yoosung** ★: **[MC], hi!!**  
> 
> **707: lol I’ll tell u where I got the chips**  

Seven stretches his arms in front of him and cracks his knuckles. 

> **707: I got them…**
> 
> **707:** **from** **my warehouse…**  
> 
> **707: that’s full of honey Buddha chips**  
> 
> **Yoosung** ★: **WAREHOUSE???;;**  
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **: Seven, tell me!** **For real!!**  
> 
> **Yoosung** ★ **:** **How did you get so many chips that you need a warehouse** **!!!;;;**  
> 
> **[MC]: Ah** **!**  
> 
> **[MC]:** **Seven must have been nice** **,** **so** **Santa brought them to him!**  

GO TEAMWORK! You’re so reliable. You’re the Battle Princess of RFA, and he, Seven Zero Seven, Defender of Justice, your loyal sidekick! _Wait, w_ _hy am I the sidekick???_  

> **707:** **whuuuuut**  
> 
> **707: how did u know???**  
> 
> **[MC]: well of course lol**  
> 
> **[MC]:** **ur** **soul is so pure lol**  

Yoosung spams the chat with exasperated emoji. Seven grins and sends you a quick text message. 

> 707: “I bet Yoosung’s super anxious right now lololol” 
> 
> 707: “How I got all those Honey Buddha chips… is a secret! Lololol 
> 
> 707: “I’m a man with many secrets…” 

Meanwhile, in the chatroom, Yoosung protests that "pure" is not the word he would use to describe Seven **at all**. 

[ _Meow~_ _Meow_ _~_ _]_ Ah, you replied to his text. 

> [MC]: “N-no way! I’m a woman with many secrets too!” 
> 
> [MC]: “Can you guess my biggest one? ఠ_ఠ” 

Haha. Okay. Are you going to give him a riddle, maybe? A cryptic clue? He's up for the challenge... 

> 707: "If you mention secrets in front of a hacker, I get desperate to find out about them!!!" 

Meanwhile, back in the chatroom, Yoosung has been called away once more by the siren song of LOLOL, leaving you and Seven alone. Neither of you log out of the chatroom, but rather than shifting your conversation there, you continue texting each other. 

> 707: "What big secret..... Ugh!!!" 
> 
> 707: "Is there a way to hack into someone's brain?" 
> 
> 707: "If there is a way, then I'll hack into yours first!!" 
> 
> [MC]: "If you're good, maybe I'll give you a clue!" 
> 
> 707: "But I AM good!" 
> 
> 707: "I'm SO GOOD!!" 
> 
> 707: "The ~best~!!!" 
> 
> [MC]: "Hmmmmmmmm..." 

_She's messing with you, dude._ Well, yeah. Doesn't mean she hasn't also got a puzzle for him to solve. And he's going to find out if there is. He's about to prod you for more information, when the messenger flashes at him.  

> **Ze** **n** **has entered the chatroom**  
> 
> **707: It's!**  
> 
> **707:** **Zeeeeeeeeeeeeennnn** **! lol**  
> 
> **Zen:** **H** **ey** **Seven;;** **Hey** **[MC]!**  
> 
> **[MC]:** **Zeeeeeeeeeeennnn** **~**  
> 
> **Zen: ;;**  
> 
> **Zen: Did you have dinner** **, [MC]** **?**  
> 
> **[MC]:** **Not yet. It's still cooking~**  
> 
> **Zen:** **...is it safe to be cooking and on the messenger at the same time?**  
> 
> **[MC]: It's  all under control** ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ “ 
> 
> **Zen:** **Haha** **, well, I'll trust your skills.**  
> 
> **Zen: But Seven;;**  
> 
> **Zen: You've been messing with** **Yoosung** **again.**  
> 
> **Zen: A warehouse of chips? Really?;;**  

Ouch! Cold! Zen doesn't believe Seven really has a chip warehouse? _He_ _must still be embarrassed_ _about falling for those maid photos and calling me cute,_ _haha_ _._ But! It's true! He must regain Zen's trust! 

> **707:** **it's true**  
> 
> **707: I swear**  
> 
> **707: how else do u explain me having all the** **se chips**  
> 
> **Zen: …**  
> 
> **Zen: You actually have a chip warehouse?;;**  
> 
> **Zen: Really...?**  
> 
> **707:** **If u really want to know what** **got me to that point** **, I’ll tell u.**  
> 
> **Zen: I mean, well.**  
> 
> **Zen: I’m not that curious.**  
> 
> **[MC]: I want to know! God Seven!**  
> 
> **707:** **Oooh** **! My disciple!**  
> 
> **707: I will answer your prayers and give you my answer**  
> 
> **707: So listen carefully**  
> 
> **Zen: …**  

On the one hand, Seven really wants to find out whatever it was you were hinting at earlier. But it's been a while since Zen last listened to one of his stories. And, you did ask, too. Seven describes the client, the mission, and how it all went so wrong.  

> **707: So I, Seven, ended up**  
> 
> **707: Having my own Fast and Furious Moment >_<** 
> 
> **707: Vroom!**  
> 
> **707:** **Baaam** **!**  
> 
> **707:** **Eeeek** **!**  
> 
> **707:** **Eeeeeeeeeek** **!**  
> 
> **707:** **Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek** **!**  
> 
> **Zen: Stop it;;;;;**  

_I should really put a function in the messenger to play music files_ _._ He wants to play the Fast and Furious soundtrack at you both so badly right now.  

> **[MC]:** **Eeekeeekeeeekeekkkkk** **!**  
> 
> **707:** **Kuuuueeeeekkk** **!**  
> 
> **707:** **lololol**  
> 
> **707: I feel like we’re talking lol**  
> 
> **707:** **~*~** **[MC]** **and I get along so well lol** **~*~**  
> 
> **[MC]: Vroom** **vroom** ** <3** 
> 
> **Zen: ;;;;**  
> 
> **Zen: You really shouldn't encourage him [MC];;**  

Seven grudgingly brings the tale to its sad conclusion – his payment of chips instead of real money. Finally Zen shows some sympathy, but Seven can't bathe in it nearly as long as he'd like. His stomach... isn't feeling so great. Maybe the ice chips messed with him. This time, maybe he should microwave them?  

Of course, some other kind of food to space out the chips would be even better. His stomach is starting to twitch when he glances at them. But… if he doesn’t eat anything but chips, he doesn’t have to spend any money on food. Seven, Master of Economy, can do this! Living on the rarest of chips, it’s like Jumin living on the most expensive of steaks. The best of the best! 

His stomach flips. 

…maybe another can of PhD Pepper before he eats any more…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to put something nice into the world today, so I pushed myself to finish this chapter a bit faster. I might come back and tweak it later with fresh eyes to make sure it's the best it can be! I hope you enjoyed it all the same. 
> 
> I love you all. And want you to be happy. So I'll get a bunch more chapters drafted and, hopefully, published over this next week <3 The next chapter has the cute childhood friends conversation! I can't wait!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone for continuing to read Seven's side of this adorable romance~


	11. Day three: late evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven imagines what his life would have been like if you had been his childhood friend, and feels a little lonely... but at least he has those moments of you on the CCTV, that moments between worlds, where you and he exist in the same space. Even if it isn't forever. He won't forget those moments.

## Day three: late evening

Seven brushes chip crumbs off his desk and onto the floor, wiping his hands on the front of his jeans, which, hmm. They’re starting to look a little golden now, just above the knee. _Chip dust dye job?_ Well, if they’re that way permanently, no reason why he should stop doing it.

The steadily growing feeling of queasiness in his stomach has been a little distracting, but that hasn’t stopped him from getting a nice solid block of work done. Despite taking so many breaks, he’s actually been pretty productive! _I must be looking forward to the party._

That said, it helps that V hasn’t called him with new tasks for the last day or so. Ever since you showed up, V had been calling at least twice a day, with all kinds of weird requests. But today? Nothing. Seven’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad sign. He knows V’s busy, although as usual V’s sparing with the details. It’s fine. In the time V hasn’t been bothering him, Seven’s even been able to work on some of those ‘nice to have’ tasks, like new ways to detect bugged phone calls. V has been extra concerned about security since you showed up, which: of course he would be. Seven is too! But everything is locked down now, so there’s nothing to worry about. All that remains is identifying the hacker that lead you to him. Uh. Lead you to the RFA.

Seven pictures your face in his mind. Today, it’s the you on the CCTV footage that pops into his head the most.

He’s seen cuter photos of you, sure. But… the you on the CCTV screen. That’s the you who exists wholly in his world. The you that stands in the corridor outside of the apartment, fumbling for the passcode, glancing at your phone. In that passageway, between past and present… it’s just you and him. No one but Seven has seen you that way. It feels nice to think there’s one little piece of you, a handful of moments where you stand in that place, the place in-between worlds. The place he spends most of his life. Really, that corridor… it’s the part of this world where the two of you are closest.

He opens the messenger. Someone’s there.  

It’s you. Of course it’s you. Don’t you always appear when he thinks about you? _Or am I just thinking about her a lot, these days?_ Well, so much of his work for RFA is connected to you, right now. _It makes sense…_

> **707: Hey [MC]!**
> 
> **707: ~Hey hey!~**
> 
> **[MC]: Hey hey hey!**
> 
> **707: lololol**
> 
> **707: ~We get along so well lol~**

Chatting here, when it’s just the two of you... feels like standing in the corridor together. Just a little.

He smiles and shoots off a couple more messages for you to read before scrolling up through the chat history to see what he missed from the last few hours.

>             **707: What?**
> 
> **707: V came and went**
> 
> **707: while I was gone;;**

_Why didn’t he call me?_ Seven quickly scans the conversation to see if there’s any new info on the party. He stumbles a sec when he sees one of the lines from you:

> **[MC]: To be honest, I love talking to Seven!**
> 
> **V: Really? I’m glad you’re getting along with Luciel.**

He’s taken a screenshot before he even thinks about it. W-wait a second, don’t put traces of the RFA in your phone gallery! He quickly hits ‘delete’ on the resulting dialog box. Geeze. What’s gotten into him? Someone said something nice, great, but he can’t go saving things like that onto a phone, even with his level of security. Who knows what could happen if people who wanted to hurt him found little pieces of evidence like that.

 _What about that photo of her you still have? And the texts?_ Think about it later. It’s fine. The messenger is safe. He’s secured it even more since the hacker appeared.

 _I guess I’m just excited to see V being supportive about something that isn’t just… my work._ He can’t pretend he hasn’t sought the shadow of a father from V. Seven has come to rely on V’s approval and guidance above all else. But V has never truly been a father. Not really. He’s always kept a little distance. _It’s for the best, anyway_. V knows better than anyone, after all, the risks of being too connected to the one known as Luciel Choi.

But. It’s nice to hear V say he’s happy you two have been getting along. That he approves.

>             V: I hope you continue to be a good influence on him.

Haha, that’s the closest to sounding like a father V has been for a while. Seven indulges, just for a second, in a little fantasy… V sending him off to school … Jumin can be the stern school principal… Jaehee’s the over-worked, perpetually single homeroom teacher… Zen’s the exchange student… Yoosung can be the class hamster… and you can be his childhood friend, smacking him on the head when he zones out in the lunch line. And, of course, Sa-

He shakes his head. These are useless thoughts. Although, he wonders what you would have been like, as a kid. That’s not the kind of thing you kind find out just by hacking. Was there someone you smacked over the head when they stepped over the line? Someone you snuck out to go see, to throw rocks at their window until they got out of bed? Someone who stood by you, who protected your kindness? Laughed with you? Cried with you?

>             **707: Did u have any childhood friends?**
> 
> **[MC]: Hmmm, I guess so!**
> 
> **707: Oooh! What’s the friend like?**
> 
> **[MC]: Oh, well… I don’t really know what they’re like now.**
> 
> **[MC]: We don’t talk any more**
> 
> **707: lololol**
> 
> **707: Did u guys fight?**
> 
> **707: Fight over a guy?**

Or… was the friend a guy? Did they try to date and have a tragic fate?! Turned out to be half siblings?! Amnesia??? Gahhh, he really wants to know!

>             **[MC]: Oh… nothing like that!**
> 
> **[MC]: It’s just our lives went in different directions…**
> 
> **[MC]: She lives overseas now, and has a lot of new people in her life…**
> 
> **[MC]: We’re still friends I guess, but we don’t keep in touch…**
> 
> **[MC]: I don’t even know if she’s dating anyone.**
> 
> **707: Awwww**
> 
> **707: but even so, I am a bit jealous…**
> 
> **707: it would be nice even if it wasn’t forever**
> 
> **707: u can’t really beat the childhood friend… lololol**
> 
> **707: so jealous lol**

Ah, he should probably stop, maybe he’s reminding you of things you don’t want to think about.

>             **[MC]: should I start nagging you like a childhood friend, Seven? lol**
> 
> **[MC]: be prepared lol**
> 
> **[MC]: i’ll come wake u up and make u carry my school bag lol**
> 
> **707: lolololol**
> 
> **707: ~*~So happy. lolol~*~**

And he is. He really, really is. He pictures it in his head, and his chest aches just thinking about it. If only life had worked out that way. 

> **707: Of course, it’s important that childhood friends grow up together**
> 
> **707: But even if we grew up in different environments,**
> 
> **707: I’ll listen to all of ur nagging. haha**

He imagines you, the you in the CCTV feed. The you that he alone sees. Standing in the corridor, but it’s not the door to Rika’s apartment. This door will take you to his house. You punch in the combination and call out his name, but he doesn’t want to go, buries himself under his blankets. The you that only he sees, your cute face, he imagines a frown appearing as you shout his name again. You stomp around his kitchen and this Seven, the Seven in this fantasy,  thinks ‘oh, is she getting me breakfast???’ and then you storm into his bedroom and pour a can of PhD Pepper over his head. _Man, what kind of messed up fantasy is that?! I need to stop playing TV shows in the background when I’m working, they’re seeping into my brain!_

Imagining that scene, though… on the one hand, it feels really good. But it feels lonely, too. A lonely world only he could go. He hasn’t let himself feel lonely in a long time. He flicks his eyes back down to his phone.

>             **[MC]: You don’t have any childhood friends?**
> 
> **707: Me?**
> 
> **707: u wanna know about my past?**
> 
> **707: Hahaha…**
> 
> **707: u dare to uncover the past of a dangerous man!**
> 
> **707: This is my motto!**
> 
> **707: Don’t ask about the past of cats and hackers.**
> 
> **707: ^^**
> 
> **707: But thanks for asking, haha.**
> 
> **707: ~*~Maybe some day~*~**
> 
> **707: ~*~I’ll find someone like me?~*~**
> 
> **[MC]: maybe that person is already nearby…**

Oh, he’s feeling dizzy again. Wait, no, his head feels a little light, but, it’s his stomach. His stomach…!

Seven races to the bathroom, scooting over an increasingly stale-smelling pile of empty chip bags. He spends at least fifteen minutes in the there, dealing with the results of eating nothing but chips for at least three days straight.

>             **[MC]: hey**
> 
> **[MC]: did something happen?**
> 
> **[MC]: u didn’t time out did u?**
> 
> **[MC] has logged out of the chatroom**
> 
> **[MC] has logged into the chatroom**
> 
> **[MC] sorry just thought I’d try calling**
> 
> **[MC]: …**
> 
> **[MC]: sorry if I said anything weird… but I’m really worried now**

He finally drags himself back to the couch where he’d flung the phone in his mad rush to safety. Vanderwood is reeeeeally not going to be impressed with what he’s done to the bathroom.

>             **707: sry i’m back**
> 
> **[MC]: omg**
> 
> **[MC]: I was so worried**
> 
> **707: sry;;;**
> 
> **707: too many chips == pain**
> 
> **707: make sure not to live on chips like me**
> 
> **707: eat all the nutrients and a lot of greens…**
> 
> **[MC]: Yup! Take care of urself too;;**
> 
> **[MC]: I wish I could make you something myself lol**
> 
> **707: ~I wish you could!~**
> 
> **707: >_<**
> 
> **707: I gotta go**
> 
> **[MC]: T_T Don’t go T_T**

Nooo! D-double crying?! That’s premium ammunition!!

>             **707: I don’t want to T_T**
> 
> **707: But I gotta… new work coming in lol**
> 
> **707: Don’t stay up too late**
> 
> **707: no one but me should have to live this life lol**
> 
> **[MC]: ok…**
> 
> **[MC]: i’m gonna make u a vitamin satellite instead of snacks now**
> 
> **[MC]: don’t work too hard**
> 
> **[MC]: or I’ll worry T_T**

He leaves the chat and gets back to work. Vanderwood will probably be by in the next few hours, given the latest update on their primary mission. He’ll have to put the RFA hacker work to one side for a bit. Nothing to worry about. Everything is under control, after all. Even if it is taking much longer to find the hacker than he would have expected.

[ _Meow~]_ He smiles at the already-familiar sound of your texts.

>             [MC]: “really though…”
> 
>             [MC]: “I started to get scared before.”
> 
>             [MC]: “u said I could nag u… so…”
> 
>             [MC]: “I’m gonna nag u…”
> 
>             707: “bring it on lol”
> 
>             707: “my body is ready lolol”
> 
>             707: “>_<”
> 
>             [MC]: “lololololol”
> 
>             [MC]: “pls look after urself”
> 
>             [MC]: “I really want to meet u one day”
> 
>             [MC]: “u aren’t allowed to die of chip poisoning ok”
> 
>             707: “ok >.<”
> 
>             707: “lol”
> 
>             707: “only because u asked so nicely lol”

Ahhhh… it feels good. You might not be real childhood friends, but… _this is so nice._

> [MC]: “good”
> 
>             [MC]: “I’ll give u a present soon”
> 
>             [MC]: “so don’t die of anything”
> 
>             707: “Ooh. Now I’m extra motivated lol”

You might never have come to wake him up for school. Or thrown rocks at his window. But… already, you feel so familiar. _I hope we can stay like this a long time... through the RFA._ He'll work hard so he can get back to solving the hacker problem once and for all. To protect this special feeling. This light you have brought into the RFA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day three has one chapter left to go... one of the sweetest phonecalls Seven gives you... is up next!


	12. Day three: the time is... VERY LATE!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After this phonecall, Seven can't really pretend that he isn't attracted to you any more. Not that this changes anything, right? He can just keep things the way they are... right?

## Day three: the time is... VERY LATE!

Right. The boss can’t complain about that. Seven was in and out of that server in half the time they’d given him. Although he might hold off on reporting his success a little longer… if he checks in now, they’ll want him to get it done that fast every time.

So instead Seven starts a quick security check, casting his eye over his server logs and noting the latest number of attempted unapproved connections. Nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, if there had been, he would have been alerted.

Yes. Everything is perfectly under control. Even his stomach has returned to something approaching normal. Although he might want to find food that isn’t chips for his next meal. Hopefully he can beg Vanderwood to bring some snacks.

Seems like the hacker still hasn’t returned. _Probably for the best… ah!_ He spots the MAC address of your laptop in his sea of reports. Looks like you had no problem following his instructions. Your laptop is now happily ensconced in a secure little digital rock pool.  No access to any of the other systems in Rika’s apartment, just a line out to the internet... via a few special routes. Even with his security measures, allowing you to connect to the net from that location isn’t without risk, but he’s confident that no major damage could be done. Even if the laptop was compromised, none of the apartment systems would be affected. You’re not even sharing the same net connection. Rika had been very insistent. Redundancies and fail-safes everywhere. The apartment might not be as physically secure as his own bunker, but digitally, it was close.

He’d advised you on a few things you needed to do to protect yourself, just in case. Even though you won’t save or access RFA guest data from your laptop, there’s your personal data to consider.

Seven wonders if you’ve fallen asleep in front of the laptop, like he so often does. He fights back an urge to peek in and see what ‘s on your screen. When he said your laptop would be his now, he wasn’t kidding. If he wanted to, he could access anything, install anything he wanted on there. Seven made this very clear to you in his instructions. Not that he has any plans to snoop on you. But he’s very, very good at preparing for the unexpected. Life, and the agency, have taught him all about the value of being prepared. His whole existence has been one long, tedious exercise in risk management. And snacks.

Snack and risk management. Yup. _That’s my life._

He’d explained to you that if there was anything you would be uncomfortable with him seeing, how you could lock it down. Just for your peace of mind. Encrypting certain folders wouldn’t prevent him from accessing them if he really, really wanted to. But, it means he’d know where not to look. _Unless I have to._ Which… which would be never! Sure, he’s curious. But. Any secrets of yours… _I want to find them out the hard way_.  Getting to know you, to know how your mind works… That’s much more of a challenge than snooping around your laptop. _Looking forward to it, [MC]._

 _Honestly though… I don’t think she’s going to secure anything at all._ You didn’t seem concerned about your laptop becoming his playground. Really, it was beginning to worry him. You placed your trust in him too easily.

He finishes checking the logs and grabs his phone, sinking back onto his couch. He yawns and curls himself up on one side, phone held just in front of his face. _She really shouldn’t be so open_. He can just imagine some evil mirror universe RFA capturing you and forcing you to work in the apartment. Lead by the infamous hacker, the… the… the Rejecter of Justice, Zero Seven Zero! The villain’s evil voice would command you over the phone “[MC]! Provide me with your credit card and bank account details, mwahahahahaha~!”

And you’d just laugh and say…

And say…

…

Huh. He can’t remember how you sound. How does that even happen, when you’ve spoken twice in the one day already? But that last time, he was so sleepy, it was almost as if the call was the continuation of his dream…

_Brrrrrrrrrrrrt…. Brrrrrrrrrrt._

Wait, what’s –

He nearly drops the phone. _WHEN DID I?! HOW?!_ He fumbles, trying to abort the call, but his hands are sweaty and - _ARGH_.

Then, he hears your voice. “Seven~! You called!”

Oh, yeah. That’s how you sound. How did he forget? Seven raises the phone to his ear.

He does his best to control his voice. “Oh… you picked up!” _Haha. What a coincidence. I’m definitely not about to throw up again, at all! Hahahahahahaha…_  “I just tried to remember your voice while working and I couldn’t. It was so weird since I have a super good memory, so I called you!” He takes a deep breath. “It… it’s back in my brain now that I’ve heard it. Did all the PhD Pepper push it out of my memory, before? Ugh…oh. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“Hee hee, you didn’t wake me, Seven~” You always sound so happy when you say his name.  “I’m glad I got to hear your voice one more time today!”

He’s glad he got to hear your voice again, too. But, uh. Now what? _I should ask her something…_

“How was your day? What did you do? Did you eat?” Yes! Topics! Great!! Good!!!

“Seven, that’s too many questions! Ask me slowly, one by one, okay?”

“Oh, okay. Well, how do I pick just one? Oh, snacks! Do you have any snacks you like?”

You pause a little before responding. “Oh, well… you might not want to hear it after what happened with your stomach today, but… I really like Honey Buddha Chips, too. I hope I’m not giving you flashbacks.”

“Haha, no way! You’re the best! I’d bring you some of mine if I could, but, ah… reality won’t let me. Remind me later, okay? I’ll make sure to give you some when I can!” Seven imagines giving you a hamper full of all sorts of different containers… milk bottles, lunch boxes, zip lock bags… all filled with chips. A hamper so big, you couldn’t even carry it home! But that’s okay. He’d help. He could bring it back to the apartment, and… then you could…

“Ahh, Seven, I’d love to share some chips with you! I can’t wait! I wish…haha.” You grow quiet. “I wish you were here now… it’s a little lonely…but your voice makes me feel so much better.” Seven feels his pulse quicken. _If I was there. If we were together right now… I’d…_

You continue, slowly. “If you were here now… I’d feel…” you trail off.

He rolls onto his other side, carefully cradling the phone close to his ear. _If I was there…_

“Something really strange happened just before, you know…” His voice matches your earlier tone, low and soft. “My hands were just pressing your number automatically… it was almost like a trance. I woke up when I heard the signal and thought about hanging up,” _– God,_ _I feel so light right now -_ “but I’m glad I didn’t.”

You laugh then, and he can’t think of anything in the world more beautiful. He wants to hold that laugh in his hands. _Although, isn’t that what I’m doing right now?_ How would you feel, if he was there with you? He wants to hear you say it… he wants to hear you tell him all kinds of things… he wants…

“Hearing your voice… makes me want to take you to the space station…”

_WAIT._

_WHAT._

_OH MY GOD._

_DID I JUST._

_I DID._

_I ABSOLUTELY DID._

How many times will he be struck by lightning in one day? _OH. MY. GOD._

He’s not sure how he’s still managing to hold onto the phone. _JUST KEEP GOING._ “Haha… anyway… I gotta go… do work… yeah. Uhm. Thanks for talking with me. Have a good night!” He hangs up before you can even respond.

What.

What was that?!

He goes to wash his face in the bathroom but makes an about-turn when the smell hits him… oh yeah. The chip incident. He ends up splashing some water onto himself from the kitchen sink instead.

It’s because you’re so cute. He just got a little carried away. It’s understandable, right? There’s a smart, goofy girl joking around with him on the phone, of course it’s easy to get a little caught up. _Especially when she says things like “I wish you were here.”_ Especially when the words are said in such a sweet voice. It’s so late at night. It’s easy for your mind to go to strange places, this late. Easy to get a little over-stimulated, in the moment. Other than you and Jaehee, he doesn’t really talk to any girls, so. It’s understandable. For sure. And. Well. Jaehee’s not his type, is she?

_So that means [MC]… is my type…_

Clearly more water is in order. Another splash or two, until his face feels just a little cooler.

Okay. There. He can think again. _So you’re a little attracted to her. It’s not that surprising._ Seven suspects he isn’t the only one, from the way some of the other members have been behaving. You’re just a charming person. Of course chatting to someone like you would have an effect. It’s nothing to worry about, so long as he doesn’t act on it. Or think about it too hard. _Especially… don’t think about being there. Next to her. What she might ask you to -_ okay. Water is not enough. He might need to find himself another distraction.

Oh.

Of course.

He has just the thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. I don't feel Seven could really still be ignorant of the fact that he likes you after this phonecall. After what he found himself saying. But, I also believe that Seven would very easily brush it off as "Well, that's not important, she's just charming, that's all. Everyone likes her. Just watch over her and make sure she's happy." Because Seven... well, we'll get to his reasoning later, won't we?
> 
> He'll just keep telling himself that THIS IS FINE WE'RE JUST GOOFING AROUND as you two flirt throughout Day 4, haha. He might not be an idiot but he's also pretty great at filing things away to NEVER FEEL NEVER EVER DO NOT FEEL THIS.
> 
> How heartbreaking is it that by Day Three he already feels this way and then... you can go do someone else's route... omg [traumatised for life] SEVEN I LOVE YOU.


	13. Day  four: early morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven gives you a wish, but then he takes it back again >.<

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever designed LOLOL is probably going to be having a very intense meeting soon about how their inventory/world state system works after this. Don't think too hard about it though c_c

## Day four: early morning

Mission accomplished. _Yoosung, I hope you log into the server soon~_

Seven has had quite a night. Nothing compared to what Yoosung’s guild members will be having, though. Seven doesn’t log into LOLOL that often. But when he does, it’s always memorable. Especially for other people.

The LOLOL Halloween event has been very popular over the last week. Several limited-edition items and outfits are up for grabs, as well as special boss monsters. There is also a useless joke item to collect, a pumpkin head, which does nothing but take up an inventory slot. Most people have just been dropping them or putting them on the market at very low prices. Seven was able to trade, collect and purchase a substantial number over the last few hours. And now they’re all safely blocking – _decorating_ – blocking all entrances to Yoosung’s guild hall. And the insides of Yoosung’s guild hall. And the roof. And their decorative koi pond.

A job well done. His mind is clear, his soul free from concern. Although his shoulders are beginning to ache. He rolls his head from side to side and tries, unsuccessfully, to relieve the tension. Hopefully his boss hasn’t gotten back to him about his next task yet… ah, damn. He has a text message. When did that show up? Oh well. The break was nice while it lasted.

Oh. It’s not his boss.

>             [MC]: “beep boop”
> 
>             [MC]: “I am a text message”

Huh. You sent those about thirty minutes ago. Did you just wake up, or is your sleep schedule as out of whack as his?

>             707: “lolol”
> 
>             707: “the text message is talking to me lol”
> 
>             707: “has this phone become self-aware”
> 
>             [MC]: “You’re awake!! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧”
> 
>             707: “lol I didn’t sleep”
> 
>             707: “just waiting for the next instructions from my boss”
> 
>             [MC]: “oh, are you really busy right now?”

It’s like the phone call last night never happened. He massages the sore pad of his right hand and leans back in his chair. That’s good. The RFA continues on, he’s still got a new person to goof around with, work is… well, it’s tolerable. He’s glad he hasn’t messed things up.

>             707: “nah”
> 
>             707: “I’m just bored now~ super duper bored~ what can I do to pass the time?”
> 
>             [MC]: “fold a thousand cat origamis!”
> 
>             707: “omg. I heard if you fold a thousand cranes, your wishes will come true.”
> 
>             707: “Will folding cats do that too?”
> 
>             [MC]: “maybe lolol”
> 
>             [MC]: “what will you wish for when you are done?”
> 
>             707: “hmmmmmmm”
> 
>             707: “how about I just give the wish to you”
> 
>             707: “I don’t rlly need anything lol”
> 
>             [MC]: “But don’t u want more cars lol”
> 
>             [MC]: “or Jumin’s cat lololol”
> 
>             707: “omg”
> 
>             707: “ur right”
> 
>             707: “give me my wish back!!”
> 
>              [MC]: “lolol u have to make the cats first”

_I should make a little pile of them and send a photo to her. She’d like that._

He looks around the room. Chip packet, chip packet, chip packet… hmmmm. Gotta be some papers around here somewhere.

>             707: “Red cat, yellow cat, blue cat, alphabet pattern cat!”
> 
>             707: “…first I should separate all the classified documents and put them somewhere so I don’t fold them.”
> 
>             [MC]: “lololol good idea”

Strangely motivated, he looks up a quick tutorial online. He wonders how many cats he can make before his next work task comes in. It’s not often he gets to do something that leaves any evidence in the world. Even RFA parties are cleaned up when they’re done. Nothing left but invoices and, in some cases, hangovers. But… a little line of origami cats. They can remain on his desk, cute witnesses of his effort. Maybe over the next few months, he could even reach one thousand?

He’d like to give you even just one. Gifts of chips would only exist for so long, but if he gave you a few of these tiny cats, you could keep them forever. Something that wouldn’t disappear, even if he did. Maybe you could use one as a bookmark? He imagines leaving a trail of origami cats from the elevator to your apartment door, and then hiding the rest in different places around the apartment. Little paper cats hidden under the couch, on top of the fridge, inside each pair of your shoes…

He spends a few minutes practicing on some scrap pieces of paper when - [ _Meow~!_ ]

Oh~? Do you miss him already~?

>             [MC]: “I’m helping!”

You send him a photo of two origami cats, propped up against the pillows of your bed. He can just barely see your glowing laptop screen to the far right.

Both are made from lined notebook paper, but you’ve drawn on each of them with gel pens. One cat has a tiny flower behind one ear and big heart-shaped eyes. The other cat… is wearing very familiar looking glasses, its features drawn in reds and oranges. In front of both of them is a tiny pile of chips.

>             707: “lolol ur gonna get chip crumbs in your bed”
> 
>             707: “but thx for the help lol”
> 
>             707: “2 down, 998 to go”

He looks more closely at the photo. The contrast isn’t too great, but he realises you have a document open on the screen of your laptop. With just three words written on it in a ridiculously huge font.

“HIDDEN MESSAGE, MEOW~”

Wait, no. There’s something else in a smaller font beneath that.

“THE PASSWORD IS: TORTOISESHELL“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The space station phonecall was a tough act to follow, because there's little more adorable than Seven saying "hey hey was just low-key fantisising about marrying u in space lolol uh anyway bye" over the phone, haha. But I hope you enjoyed my take on the origami cats too. We have to savour every cute moment we can get as we draw closer to the tougher days...


	14. Day four - morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zen calls Seven to discuss some concerns about fish and, uh, areas of certain photographs you seem to be unhealthily interested in.

## Day four - morning

Empty chip packets are actually quite an effective method of expressing your displeasure, it turns out. Vanderwood snatches them from the ground, the couch, the tables with an audible rustle of disapproval.

In the battle of Who Cares More About Working In An Actual Trash Nest, Vanderwood always, always loses. Seven hasn’t even had to say a word (and Vanderwood clearly isn’t in the mood to talk, especially after pouring an entire jug of bleach down the bathroom toilet).

The aggressive packet rustling concludes and shortly is followed by the sound of a vacuum cleaner roaring to life. Seven perches on his desk chair, feet off the ground (his lovely maid is never gentle.)

He can’t think with all these cranky cleaning sounds, so Seven flicks through the messenger  to see what he’s missed. Not much. Yoosung wants to trade his commoner chips for rare chips? Haha, nope. Try again. Looks like he hasn’t logged into LOLOL yet to see the havoc Seven has wreaked… he might have some other things to think about after that.

His mind wanders back to the earlier text messages from you. _The password is ‘tortoiseshell’, huh?_ Should he be investigating this now? Or are there more clues coming? And what could it be that you’re planning for him? So many questions. Are you sending these clues to others too? Maybe it’s some kind of game to get to know the whole RFA. He wouldn’t put it past you.

The sound of the text message is lost over Vanderwood’s increasingly irate vacuuming noises, but Seven’s still looking at his phone when it comes in. He smiles in surprise. Zen! It’s been a while since Zen texted him anything.

> Zen: “Seven;;”
> 
> Zen: “Are you… and [MC]…;;;;”
> 
> 707: “lololol zen”
> 
> 707: “what’s up”

An image from Zen starts to transfer – what, is he sending a selfie? Maybe he found the Tripter bot…

> **[ ](http://talesfromelectriceve.com/hosted_images/HisSide_14_01_large.png) **
> 
> Zen: “When she saw this, she said: ‘N I C E  F R A M I N G  L O L O L O L’”
> 
> Zen: “;;;”
> 
> 707: “lololol u sent her the fishing photo”
> 
> 707: “thought u’d send her sth just of u lolol”
> 
> Zen: “Seven;;;;;;;”

Seven looks at the photo of himself and Zen by the beach and grins. Action shots aren’t V’s normal oeuvre , but this one captures the moment perfectly. Back then, Rika had organised a couple different social gatherings for the RFA, to keep everyone motivated between parties and reward them for working so hard. Between Rika setting up the events to create memories and V consistently documenting them, there’s a couple years of his life that would actually look like something from a normal person’s photo album. Looking at images from those times is like looking at another reality. He might not get to live in it, but, at least he has these little pieces. These fragments of a world that has a place for him.

> Zen: “I think she was talking about…”
> 
> Zen: “You and the fish…”

Seven grins. You’ve been messing with Zen so early in the day? That’s dedication. Seems like you can throw Zen off his game as much as you can Seven.

> 707: “srry not sure what u r getting at”
> 
> 707: “u need to speak clearly Zen”
> 
> Zen: “Look I would NEVER have gone there;;”
> 
> Zen: “but now that she commented all I can see…”
> 
> 707: “lolol what exactly are u seeing help me out here”
> 
> 707: “describe in detail pls”
> 
> Zen: “Work it out yourself!!;;”
> 
>             Zen: “I’m not saying it!”

Vanderwood gives him a look as Seven doubles over in laughter. _Bless you for this gift, [MC]. You must be the angel… or devil… no, definitely the angel of RFA._

> Zen: “But, Seven… [MC] said she was saving it to use as her laptop background”
> 
> 707: “lololol she does that”
> 
> 707: “guess she likes fish”
> 
> Zen: “What…”
> 
> Zen: “That’s what she said when I offered to send her a better photo”
> 
> 707: “well there u go”
> 
> Zen: “…I’m going to call you”
> 
> Zen: “Don’t ignore it okay?”
> 
> 707: “ok~”

Seven escapes into the garage to avoid the continued sounds of his ♡♡♡lovely maid♡♡♡ rampaging around the house. It actually takes Zen a couple minutes before he manages to call. What’s up with him?

Seven answers. “Lovely Zen~! I was waiiiiting for your call~”

“Dude!” Zen responds as if Seven just asked for his hand in marriage. “I don’t wanna hear that from you!”

“Awwwww,” Seven sulks into the phone. “Well, what’s up? You wanna talk to me about fish more?”

Zen hesitates. “Seven… you and [MC] have been chatting a lot, right?”

Seven leans against the bright yellow hood of one of his cars. “Oh, do you think? Isn’t everyone talking more now, though?” He keeps his voice light. “You should call her some time!”

“I did!” Zen pauses again, and continues a little more calmly than before. “She has a lovely voice.” Yet another silence follows. It’s not like Zen to be this hesitant. “I still don’t know what she looks like… but you do, don’t you?”

“Yeah! Like I said before, she’s a real cutie! Her voice is just like her face!” Seven looks across at the rest of his cars, relaxing into the warmth built up in the metal behind him. _Really beautiful…_

“And…?

“And... what?”

“That’s all you have to say about her?”

“Zen! I respect her privacy! If you want to know more about her, you should ask her yourself! My lips are ♡ S E A L E D ♡”

“That wasn’t what I was trying to-!” Zen barks out a little frustrated noise. “Argh. Whatever. This was a mistake. You guys are just gonna do your own weird thing.”

Seven laughs. “I honestly have no idea what is going on right now, but I’m sorry you’re bothered, Zen.”

“Look… just. You haven’t hacked into her text messages or anything, right? You haven’t been… texting anyone from her account right?”

Seven takes on a hurt tone again. “Hey - why would I do that?”

Zen snorts. “Because you’re you, geeze!”

“Well, you have a point~” Seven grins and waves his free hand expansively. “I’m way too busy to send texts from her account though. Why did you think I had?”

Zen goes quiet again. “…really? So she really…?”

“What? WHAT? God, now you’ve got me really curious!”

Zen sighs, deflated. “Hey… if you want to know what she said to me, you can ask her, okay? But she talks about you a lot you know. She really likes you.”

“Haha, I guess we do get along okay. Not as well as you and me though, Zen~” Suddenly he feels as if he’s treading dangerous waters... the silence on the end of phone has gotten even heavier.

“Just… call me if you need to talk about anything, okay? I mean it.” Seven can’t work out why, but the sincerity in Zen’s voice actually makes him feel a little nervous. “Anything that isn’t cats… (sneeze) or weird. Normal things. Okay? I gotta go. Talk to you later.”

“Okay~! Byyyyyye lovely Zen~~~”

So…? You’ve been talking to Zen about him? In a way that makes Zen think it wasn’t even you? Is this another clue…? Is this part of the puzzle? _Tortoiseshell…_

Zen certainly got wound up by your teasing about the fish photo… _she’s probably just messing with him, whatever she said._ It couldn’t hurt to take a quick peek at what you’ve been saying, though, right? He’s pretty curious about whatever it is that has Zen so worked up. Maybe later, when Vanderwood has gone.  It could be another clue, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to write some more calls between Seven and the other members. It's fun imagining how they interact on the phone!
> 
> Yeah - Zen is referring to THAT text message you can send him... about your heart...


	15. Day four: afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fish bun vampire strikes!!! Normally vampires drain red stuff though, right? Not make you redder? Seven is definitely redder.

## Day four: afternoon

Seven quickly brushes a handful of folded paper felines over his notepad as Vanderwood walks by. _Phew, that was close~_

More work has come in, and Seven’s been trapped at his desk for hours now. His brain was about to melt out of his ears, so he’s been scribbling on the pad he found when he went looking for origami cat materials. Gently, he shakes the cats off the notepad and onto the small pile of their brothers and sisters by his keyboard. _Thanks, guys_. _Vanderwood really doesn’t need to see this._

The pages are covered in tiny, goofy emoji ideas. There’s plenty of reasons he could give Vanderwood for why he’s sketching. He’s multi-tasking! He’s re-setting his brain! It’s a warm-up! But, better to never have the conversation in the first place.

The doodle of you pouncing on a bag of snacks is looking good… he’s still not quite happy with the one of you tilting your head and looking suspicious. It’s not quite cute enough yet. He still wants to draw you laughing… you tripping over… Work might be draining him of life, but at least jotting down a few chatroom emoji ideas lets him feel like he has some remaining autonomy.

[ _Meow~]_

> [MC]: “Yo”
> 
>             [MC]: “childhood friend Seven”
> 
>             [MC]: “lend me your study notes~”
> 
>             [MC]: “I didn’t do my homework lol”
> 
>             707: “omg”
> 
>             707: “can’t believe u became childhood friends with me just to steal my homework;;”
> 
>             707: “>_<”
> 
>             707: “ok lol”
> 
>             707: “here’s my notes lol”

He takes a quick shot of the notepad sketches and texts it back to you.

>             [MC]: “OMG T_T”
> 
>             [MC]: “IS THAT ME???”
> 
>             [MC]: “THEY’RE SO CUTE!!!”
> 
>             707: “lolol well you’re an official member now”
> 
>             707: “I’ll set u up with emoji soon”
> 
>             707: “Once my boss releases my chains T_T”

Vanderwood is still out of the room. Maybe this is a good time for a longer break. He’s getting kinda hungry…

>             [MC]: “T_T”
> 
>             [MC]: “well thank you for sharing your notes with me lol”
> 
>             [MC]: “in return let me nag you some more…”
> 
>             [MC]: “remember to eat something that isn’t chips ok???”
> 
>             [MC]: “istg I will launch a vitamin satellite directly at ur house if you don’t”
> 
>             707: “lolol good thing my house is reinforced”
> 
>             707: “Roof!!! Protect me from all the nutrients!!!”

You’re right, though. He should eat. And take a break. And log into the messenger. All of those things.

Fortunately, his earlier begging had paid off, and Vanderwood has left several grocery bags filled with non-potato-based snack foods on his kitchen counter. Seven lays out a meal for himself. Time to make some good old fashioned #content.

#luncheating

#delicious

#ilovenutritionandnutritionlovesme

…

>             **707 has entered the chatroom**
> 
> **[MC]: It’s Seven~!**
> 
> **[MC]: Did you eat yet?**
> 
> **707: I did!**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: Was it a proper meal for a change?**
> 
>             **707: Drumroll please!**
> 
> **707: Booboom pow!**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: Do not write drumming sounds;**
> 
> **707: Bam bam!**
> 
> **[](http://talesfromelectriceve.com/hosted_images/HisSide_15_01_large.png)**

No question, the photo beats the pants off of Jumin’s shaky steak. The fish buns might be a little saggy in the middle due to the complete removal of the red bean paste within, but everything’s crystal clear.

>             **707: This**
> 
> **707: is my**
> 
> **707: meal.**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: Were your fingers paralysed from eating the fish-shaped bun’s stomach or something?**
> 
> **707: The guts got on my fingers**
> 
> **707: so typing with one finger.**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: Do not call the red bean paste guts;;**
> 
> **[MC]: Mwahahah, I’m going to swoop in and lick up all the leftover guts~**

Um. The mental image of you raising his hand to your mouth, and licking from his palm all the way up to -

> **707: >_<**

**-** he slaps his cheeks with both hands, getting red bean paste there, too. _My imagination is getting way too intense, even for me…_

> **Jaehee Kang: What are you doing?**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: My stomach just lurched a bit.**
> 
> **[MC]: FISH BUN VAMPIRE**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: Do you even know what you are saying?**
> 
> **Jahee Kang: And if you have bean paste on your fingers, wipe it.**
> 
> **707: Okie…**

Seven sucks the remaining bean paste off the tips of his fingers and wipes them on the hem of his t-shirt. A fish bun vampire. Haha. He rubs at the already drying marks on his cheek. _Ahhh, I’m a mess._ _Will she swoop in and lick that, too?_ He glances down at his phone, guiltily. _Just keep those thoughts in your head where no one can see them._

Aren’t vampires meant to bite, though? Hmmmmm~ Maybe you’d just nibble a little? _Nope, nope, nope. This is not the time. Think about something else. Anything else._

He imagines how you’d eat a fish-shaped bun, and makes a bet with himself that you’d start at the head and move all the way down to the tail with the tiniest bites. _Gotta convince Jaehee to have some at the party so I can test this out. Zen might be able to sway her._   If he’s wrong, he’ll give the buns up for a month. If he’s right… _maybe I could ask her to come for a drive sometime?_

The idea of taking you somewhere nice in one of his cars… well, he’s given other RFA members rides before. He might _enjoy_ taking you out a little more, but that’s no reason to avoid it, right? Little pleasures like that keep him going through all the shittier parts of his life. Of which he’s in no shortage. And since Rika died, there haven’t been a lot of opportunities to go out on anything other than a mission.

Yeah. You guys would have fun together, but when he dropped you home, you’d go back to your life and he to his. Although, it does feel a little risky going for a drive with you when his brain is like this. With all the, uh, imagining. Vivid, vivid imagining. But that’s all it is. It’s fine so long as it stays in his head. _And! That’s what the bet’s for! Win the bet – then it’s the will of God!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Jaehee, you really didn't need that mental image did you? ^^;; Cheer up!!!
> 
> The next chapters are all quite long... please look forward to them, they should be fun, mwahahahahahaha~


	16. Day four: early evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That fish bun conversation is just not leaving Seven's mind. Which somehow leads to him hiding in a blanket fortress and chatting to you in his underwear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this one took so long! I was unwell this week so I got behind schedule. But, back on track now, and this chapter is a long and fun one. Enjoy~ <3

## Day four: early evening

 

Humming, Seven listens to the echo of his voice mixing with the gentle sounds of splashing water. There are certain notes he can hit that make his entire body feel like all its molecules are merging with the endless warm rain above him. He takes a deep breath and lets his thoughts get washed away.

There’s still light traces of red bean paste on his face. He rubs at them with one soapy hand. _Not like leaving it there is gonna make the fish bun vampire come for me_. After his chat with you and Jaehee, the sight of the half-eaten fish bun family had been a constant distraction. He’d surprised Vanderwood by actually taking the plate back into the kitchen and dropping it into the recently-cleared dishwasher himself. But even when he’d cleared the evidence away, he couldn’t help but think about you.

You, the fish bun vampire. Coming for him. Insatiable. Licking all the bean paste off no matter where it had rubbed off. Poor, innocent Seven at your toothy mercy –

Phew. _This water is way too warm._ He turns the hot water tap off, all the way. He’s got about thirty seconds until the water supply catches up.

_Or I could just –_ just what, exactly? Explore this new bean paste kink he apparently has now? _Why not? I should just work it out of my system now or I’ll just -_

ARGH. HELLO. THERE’S THE COLD WATER. GOD. DAMN.

\---ooOoo---

_Can’t… thaw… out…_

Seven throws on a pair of boxers and dives straight into bed, wrapping himself up in his doona for warmth. Seems like Vanderwood left while he was in the shower.

_S-so c-cold._ Just gotta wait until he defrosts, then he’ll get dressed and get back to work. Or maybe even take a nap. He’s not actually sure when he last slept, and Vanderwood’s absence is a perfect opportunity.

Seven extends his arms out of his blanket igloo just enough that he can reach his phone resting on the table by his bed. Then he retracts back into the warm air between the blankets, pulling them  over his head until there’s just a tiny gap left for fresh air to come through.

>             **707 has entered the chatroom**
> 
> **707: [MC]!**
> 
> **[MC]: GASP!!!**
> 
> **707: Hiya hiya!**
> 
> **707: lololol**

It feels even more intimate, just you and him under the blanket together. (Not actually together). (Together). (Not really). (But kind of). _Argh._

He’s feeling warmer already.

>             **[MC]: whachu doing**

_I’m hiding in a blanket fortress chatting to you in my underwear._

>             **707: lolol just catching up on the messenger**
> 
> **707: Zen posted more selfies**
> 
> **707: how does he manage to do that every time?**
> 
> **707: amazing +_+**
> 
> **707: wish I could do that too lolol**
> 
> **[MC]: there’s still time lol**
> 
> **[MC]: u could take one now**

Well. _If I sent one… would you still joke about making_ that _your desktop background?_ What _would_ you say if you knew what he was doing right now? Laugh, or…?

>             **707:** **too dark in here lol**
> 
> **707: such a shame**
> 
>             **[MC]: T_T**

_Haha, don’t tempt me._

> **707: But,**
> 
> **707: truthfully,**
> 
> **707: Zen is good looking.**
> 
> **707: He’s way more good looking than I am lololol**
> 
> **707: to begin with,**
> 
> **707: I don’t go to the salon**
> 
> **707: so already there we have a huge difference…**
> 
> **707: Haha**
> 
> **707: ha**
> 
> **707: …**
> 
> **707: Should I ask Mary Vanderwood to cut my hair?**

He tugs at his still-damp fringe. It can probably go another month, right?

>             **[MC]: Should I cut your hair? lol I want to.**
> 
> **707: ~*~U? lol ~*~**
> 
> **707: I’m curious how it’d turn out,**
> 
> **707: but T_T**
> 
> **707: I’m too busy to go anywhere.**
> 
> **707: Will you cut my hair at the party? lololol**

He finds himself re-reading the last conversation between you and Zen in the messenger. Zen would treat you really well… if you can put up with his narcissism. Although it seems like all you did when you last spoke to Zen was talk about Seven.

Yes. Of course. The question Zen had started to ask, earlier. ‘ _Are you... and [MC]…?’_

>             **[MC]: I could always come see you instead…**
> 
> **[MC]: It’d be fun ^^**

He probably should discourage you a little. It’s fine to play around in the messenger. But… it can’t start leaking out into the real world. You really shouldn’t think about him so much.

_Well, you shouldn’t spend so long in the shower thinking about her either._

Now look. That’s different. There’s nothing wrong with wondering a little about you. In the privacy of his own shower. When matters need to be considered. In detail, where necessary. In order to keep them off his mind the rest of the time.

But. Right. Where was he? Yeah. You shouldn’t be thinking of him so much. An empty shell like him can’t ever take up space in your heart that’s meant for someone else.

He leans closer to the glowing screen, the only source of light in his blanket cave.

>             **707: u don’t want to enter the lair of a hacker**
> 
> **707: hackers**
> 
> **707: hide like cockroaches,**
> 
> **707: but are poisonous**
> 
> **707: and exist everywhere.**

It’s just you and him here, in this dark place, bathed in the glow of the messenger. Like he’s whispering the words directly into your ear.

>             **707: Behind your back,**
> 
> **707: above your head,**
> 
> **707: under your feet,**
> 
> **707: and…**
> 
> **707: *~*in your heart*~***

His glasses are starting to fog up a little, so he shoves them on top of his head – he doesn’t need them when he’s this close to yo- to the phone screen anyway.

>             **[MC]: Don’t pierce through my heart! >_<**
> 
> **707: Haha.**
> 
> **707: What do I do now?**
> 
> **707: I’m**
> 
> **707: already**
> 
> **707: inside**
> 
> **707: your heart.**
> 
> **707: Is this it?**
> 
> **707: *~*thump*~***
> 
> **707: *~*thump*~***
> 
> **707: *~*thump*~***

There’s a hollow feeling in his own chest. _What, did my heart get lost, too?_

> **[MC]: …if it’s you, you can stay in my heart~**

Gah! Now he’s overheating for sure. He throws off one blanket layer to vent the excess warmth.

> **707: >.<**
> 
> **707: u r too kind**
> 
> **707: now I don’t know how to end this joke…**
> 
>             **707: Anyways,**
> 
> **707: this does give me a good idea for a party guest, lol**

He tells you about Hackers Chasing Hackers… oh. That’s impressive timing.

An alert text has just been sent to his phone. It’s barely a threat, but someone has actually managed to mess around on his servers enough that he should probably send them back a little gift…

> **707: ugh**
> 
> **707: gotta go**
> 
> **707: Seven, the dangerous man,**
> 
> **707: will have to return to harsh lonely reality!**
> 
> **[MC]: Awwwww**
> 
> **[MC]: I’ll be thinking of you~**
> 
> **[MC]: So cheer, up Seven!**
> 
> **707: okie dokie!**
> 
> **707: I’m going to get back to it**
> 
> **707: >_<**
> 
> **707: Don’t skip your meals, [MC]!**
> 
> **707: Adios!**

\---ooOoo---

Seven taps impatiently on his desk _and waits for death._

Geeze. How has something like this got him in such a funk? It’s not like any of these hackers are halfway competent. But. It’s depressing him, all the same. _So many people out to destroy me._

He’s not of use to anyone like this. What if V calls now and needs something done urgently, while Seven’s machines are tied up? If he can’t work, what’s even the point of his existence? The bright colours around him feel like such a lie. The warmth he felt when talking to you drained away so quickly. The cold reality of his real world swallows it all up. Really, why…? _Why do I even…?_

‘I’ll be thinking of you’. You said that, before. Are you, though? Would you notice, if he disappeared for days? Weeks? _Of course she would. Don’t be an idiot._

God. He’s been resigned to loneliness for years. Why is it eating at him so much, now? Is it because Yoosung can’t hit the arcades with him as often as he used to? And, why? Why does he keeping thinking about things he knows he can’t have? Is it the questions Zen left unspoken, lingering in his mind?

He thumbs open his text messages. Zen really did worry over nothing with that fish photo. As if Seven’s the one you’d be focused on, when there were people like Zen around.

Beneath that conversation are the last messages the two of your exchanged last night. _The password is ‘tortoiseshell’… still haven’t had time to look into the puzzle she’s left for me._

And there’s the photo of those two origami cats you made. Him, and…

He really wants to talk to you.

_Okay. If the last digit of the IP for the most recent hack attempt is an odd number, then God wants you to call her._

He checks. It’s an even number.

_Ah, so you want me to text her instead!_

_If I’m wrong, give me a sign!_

Nothing happens in the following ten seconds. Right. Nothing for it, then. He feels himself brightening as soon as he begins to write the first message.

>             707: “I got bored and had to text you lololol”
> 
>             707: “We talked about a hair salon earlier”
> 
>             707: “What hairstyle do you think would suit me? Broccoli hair? Bald?”

He waits for your response, glancing back at the trace in progress on his screen. [ _Meow~_ ]

>             [MC]: “I like you with curly hair. Looks cute~”
> 
>             [MC]: “But you’d look cute no matter what you did lol ❤”

_…!!!_

>             707: “OMG! Critical hit on my heart!!!”
> 
>             707: “Damage 9999… use a recovery skill!”
> 
>             707: “I feel like CPR or a heart massage will only make it race faster.”
> 
>             707: “so go put on the spell~! Seven~ Seven~ Dead~ or~ Alive~”

God, if you keep calling him cute, he’s going to have even _more_ trouble next time he takes a shower. _Imagine if I’d_ heard _her saying that on the phone, I’d be dead now for sure._

You’re so kind to everyone, even him, but do you have any idea what saying things like that can do to a guy? He pushes his glasses back up his nose – they must have slipped down while he was busy being murdered by you. Again.

A-aargh! And now his phone is ringing. He answers the call straight away.

“Sorry~” you say sweetly into the phone. “I just wanted to check that Seven was alive!”

You two chat for a while about the current hack attempts, and he discusses his plan to send back a recording to all the hackers that dared to leave stupid pieces of evidence of themselves on his servers. Before long his earlier mood has completely dissipated. You might be bad for his heart, but at the same time, he feels so much more peaceful, talking to you. _How does that even work?_ Everything about talking to you is a contradiction. Who even knows what you’d call that feeling.

He gives you a preview of his speech.

 “Ah, ah, ah, mic test one-two!”

 “Three four five six seven eight nine ten!” Your gleeful contribution only makes him feel like putting on even more of a show.

“Let the speech begin!”

Like all good speeches, it ends with an evil laugh. You give him a round of applause.

“Ah, I’m glad you enjoyed it! I’d better get going so I can distribute the recording to all those who dared to trespass on my servers today!”

“Oh, well…” you comment lightly, the laughter his speech elicited still colouring your voice, “…once you’re done with that, you really need to get onto that other thing, you know…”

“Other thing? You mean the RFA hacker?” He takes on a pitiful tone. “I-is this more nagging? Am I being nagged right now?”

“Pfffft, as if I need to nag you about that. I mean… isn’t there something else you’re forgetting?”

He idly checks the security footage, but of course, you aren’t there. Why was he thinking you might be? Seven shakes his head. “Oh… hmmm. Right! Is this about the puzzle you’re making? That password?”

“Ahhh!” You sound so excited. “You did see it!”

He grins and wraps one finger in the cord leading from his headphones. “Oh~? Are you getting impatient? Are you jealous of all the hackers taking my attention away~?”

“Ahaha…” What’s this? Has he actually made _you_ lose your words for a change? He twirls the cord around his finger even more and hums a little victory tune. Is this how you felt every time you zapped him with lightning over the last couple days? It’s intoxicating. He just wants to tease you more.

“You don’t need to worry, [MC]~” He lingers on your name, a moment. “God Seven sees everything eventually~”

You seem to recover, but he can still hear – hmmmm? Nerves? Your voice is shakier than before. “Hahaha… Seven. I want you to see it soon… I want you to see all of it…”

_What. What is it?_ There’s a few ideas popping into his head that make him even dizzier. _No!_ For once he has the upper ground. He’s not going to let things... you could show him… cloud his thinking… or think about… how he wants to record that sentence… and listen to it again later… _damnnit._ Just as he was gaining the upper ground, he’s feeling crazy again.

There’s a brief, somewhat awkward silence before you continue on. “Anyway, I should let you go… just promise me you’ll make a little time to play later, okay?”

“Arrgh!” Thinking about work helps him recover a little momentum. “It’s hard to make a promise like that with the workload I’ve got! But I’ll try, okay?” He assumes a bolder tone. “But! You’re right! Time to go send out my speech! Wish me luck, hooo-ney~ Zài lián xì~!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do like Seven's ocassional use of other languages, and according to Cheritz he's fluent in seventeen. I don't know if Mandarin is one of them, but he probably knows a few phrases if nothing else. I'm told _zài lián xì_ is something along the lines of "let’s stay in touch" which seemed more appropriate than "see you later" or similar, given your interactions with each other. It _can_ also be used in that "yeah we should really catch up some time" sort of way where the speaking party actually never makes plans to catch up. Which suits Seven given how much he wants to stay ambiguous with you, indulging in some feelings without having to actually acknowledge or make space for them.
> 
> Anyway, that was a lot to say about one little farewell! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I plan on having less of the delay before the next! Let's hope I stay healthy this time~ (ヾ;￣▽￣)ヾ


	17. Day four: Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung desperately seeks help from Seven about some pumpkin... problems...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder that in an earlier Day Four chat with Yoosung, MC can suggest that Seven's real name must be something sophisticated, like "Sophisticated Choi" ^^;

## Day four: evening

[LOLOLOL~ ♫] [LOLOLOL~ ♫] [LOLOLOL~ ♫] [LOLO-]

_What. What is happening right now._

Seven sits up, shakes his head and wipes traces of sleep from his eyes. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in one of the monitors. Ugh. There are a lot of rectangular indentations on his forehead. His phone flashes impatiently, just within his field of vision.

_That’s a lot of texts from Yoosung. And a missed call. How did I sleep through that?_

_Ohhhhhhhh. Yeah. Yoosung._

He squints at the first one.

 

>             Yoosung ★: “SOPHISTICATED CHOI”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “WHY AREN’T YOU PICKING UP???”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “sorry 4 yelling;;”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “BUT IT’S AN EMERGENCY”

_S-Sophisticated Choi?_  He goes to laugh but his throat is too dry. He reaches for a can of PhD Pepper… but, damn. All the nearby ones are empty. So he responds to Yoosung with one hand while walking to the fridge, rubbing at the dents in his forehead with the other.

 

>             707: “lolol Yoosung”
> 
>             707: “what is the nature of ur digital emergency”
> 
>             707: “did u fail a test lol”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “;;;;;;;;;;”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “My guildmaster has put out a reward for finding the person who trashed our sacred hall”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “It took us hours to clear out all these pumpkins”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “Seven!!!”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “Please help us catch the culprit!!!”

Oh, Yoosung. Seven even dropped all those hints in the messenger about going off to play LOLOL and, still. The gullible, lost student comes to him for help instead of throwing accusations.

Yoosung. Yoosung.

 

>             707: “Sry. Can’t help u unless he gives me a car”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “SEVEN!!! HE CAN’T DO THAT!!!”
> 
>             707: “oh well lol”
> 
>             707: “good luck finding the culprit”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “Sevennnnnn T_T”

Seven pulls a cold can of PhD Pepper from the fridge and takes it back to his desk, one side of his mouth beginning to form the ghost of a smirk.

 

>             707: “ok hang on”
> 
>             707: “I think I found him”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “OMG. ALREADY???”
> 
>             707: “the culprit… is in…”
> 
>             707: “…MY HOUSE”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “!!!”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “YOUR MAID???”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “omg”

Any minute now…

 

>             Yoosung ★: “OMG WAIT”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “…”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “NO WAY”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “ESVENN I’ M”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “MM SO ANGYR AT YUO RIGTH NOW;;,,,,,;;”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “TEH GUILDMASTRE CAN NWVWR KNOW ABT THIS;;;;;;”
> 
>             707: “lololol srry srry”
> 
>             707: “I thought u’d like them”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “NO”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “I IDN’T LIJE THEM”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “I NEVWR WANT OT SEE THEME AGAIN”
> 
>             707: “lolol ok”
> 
>             707: “~*~no more pumpkin heads 4 u~*~”
> 
>             707: “~*~I’m sorry sweetie~*~”
> 
>             Yoosung ★: “ARRGRR”

Gah. His brain still feels so fuzzy. Yoosung’s texts must have woken him up at the worst possible part of his sleep cycle. All his neurons are fizzing, not firing. He presses the cold can to his face and stares at his phone.

Wait. That’s right. He’d been dreaming, before. Dreaming about… oh.

All the amusement he’d been feeling at Yoosung’s expense dissipates in an instant. That’s right. His dream…

He leaves the PhD Pepper behind and wanders into his bedroom, kneeling at the side of his bed. Gently, he slides the box underneath it out into the light. For a minute Seven stays like that, staring, hand on the lid. _No._ Not now. Looking at the things in there will just make him feel even more hung up on the past. He sighs and closes his eyes, pushing the box away again. Time to think about something else. Anything else.

_…_

_Maybe she won’t pick up,_ he thinks as he dials your number. He wants you to... but, should he really be calling you this often?

“Seven! Are you psychic?! I was just thinking about you!” You’re a little breathless. If he wasn’t so tired, he might have teased you about it.

“Good morning~ Uh, I mean, good evening~!” Seven inhales and arches his chest. He hopes the phone doesn’t pick up the few pops his back makes as pieces of himself click into place. Sleeping with your face on your keyboard is not ideal for your spine. “Gahhh... I feel like dying right now.. do you understand what I mean when I feel like my whole body is melting like slime?”

Scenes from his latest dream tumble from his lips down the phone to you before he has time to think things through. _Is she my therapist now?_ Your voice does help the images from his dream fade a little further into the background of his brain, so, perhaps you are. Dreams populated with memories like these are not uncommon for Seven, but he’s never tried describing them aloud. Some of the details have to be kept vague, of course.

“Ah. I miss my other half. I can only meet my other half in my dreams…”

Bringing this up, now – he’s not sure why he’s doing this. _No, I know why. I want her to ask. I want to tell her…_

Your next words are careful, considered. “Do you… have someone you like?”

“Well… I guess you could say that!” He hears your breath catch at the other end of the line.

“It might not be what you’re thinking,” he continues, “but that person means a lot to me… It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the person. I only have a photo. A photo… God, that’s nothing.”

He glances in the direction of his bedroom again. Why didn’t he just say yes? Leave it as that, open for misunderstanding. Keep the truth as far away as possible. He’s lied so many times. For work, for fun, for survival… but he just can’t quite bring himself to lie about that person.

You… haven’t said anything for a while.

“Sorry for babbling on.” He wants to kick himself. Everything had been so fun between the two of you, and now he’s just calling you up to ramble nonsense. This was a bad idea. _Working until I forget… that’s all a person like me can hope to do._ “Nothing’s better than work in pulling myself together. I think every time I felt depressed after waking up, I just started working…”

“Seven, you’re feeling depressed? If you want to talk more, I don’t mind at all… I’ll listen to whatever you have to say…”

Ohhhhhhhh, greeeeeat. Nonsense wasn’t enough, apparently, now he’s just casually sprinkling everything with misery. This is not the part of him he wants to show RFA members. He’s always made sure to keep his smile bright for them. Even Yoosung, who’s spent more time with him than anyone else. Even Yoosung has never heard him talk like this. His entire persona is slipping in front you. This is bad, bad, bad. You’re not going to like him if you hear him talking like – _she doesn’t need to like me –_ but he wants you to li – _I don’t –_ he does – _aaaargh._

“No, I’m - I’m fine now. I’ll get back to work. I’m really touched you listened to my dream story without making fun of me. It’s already begun, but, have a good evening!” He hangs up before you can press him for anything else. _Next time we talk, I’ll be 707 again. Not… this person._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah, it started out so fun but then ended so angsty;;;;;
> 
> Chapter 17 was going to be twice this length, but I've now broken it across 17 and 18 so that I could at least post this section now ^^; So we'll be going with Jumin to the grape farm in the next chapter. And Seven is finally going to look into the whole tortoiseshell thing...


	18. Day four: late evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Seven is going to get to the bottom of this whole "tortoiseshell" thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that like all the images in this fic, you can click on the ones in this chapter to view a larger version ^^

## Day four: late evening

_So, what could I use this password on…?_ Seven’s foot rhythmically bounces against the bin by his desk, forming a beat in perfect time with his thoughts. It bugs him that he’s had a puzzle clue for nearly a whole day and he hasn’t had a chance to make any progress on it at all.

There’s a few options. First of all, the entire password could be a red herring. It may be that there’s another meaning to that photo you sent entirely. He doesn’t _think_ that’s how you’d play this, but, it’s worth keeping in mind if he gets stuck.

Assuming the password can be taken at face value, it means he needs to unlock a system you have access to. Your phone, your laptop, the CCTV camera and the messenger app itself are the most likely candidates. Potentially you could have modified other systems in Rika’s apartment, but you don’t seem like the kind of person who’d break one of the few requests V had made of you just for a puzzle.

Seven picks up one of the origami cats from his growing pile, and absently folds its ears over, a faint smile appearing on his face. Working out the next best step requires considering not just how you think, but how you think he thinks.

Having transformed the origami cat into a Scottish Fold, he opens the messenger and scrolls back through old chats. Have you been leaving him clues in your conversations? Or is it something hidden in your texts? If only he could turn his full attention to this – he still has so much work to do. On the monitor in front of him are lines of code he’s putting together for his boss – switching his attention between this and the messenger is keeping his frustration at bay, but at the same time, both tasks are suffering. It’d be nice if he could just talk to you…

> **[MC] has entered the chatroom**

Oh...?

Unfamiliar feeling, this. Getting things he wants. Since you joined RFA that seems to be happening more and more. _So how long until this rare streak of luck runs out?_ He pushes the thought away.

> **707: It’s [MC]!**
> 
> **707:  ~Welcome!!~**
> 
> **[MC]: I missed you Seven! >_<**

What he wants…

> **707: >_<**
> 
> **707: *~Hey hey [MC]~***
> 
> **707: u missed me?**
> 
> **707: lol**

This is all he can allow himself to want.

And that’s fine.

As time passes, the other members will get to know you better. But he’ll always have to keep that barrier up. He’ll always be holding back. Not like, say Zen, or Yoosung… but he can enjoy watching the inevitable friendships and, even possibly romance, bloom, right?

> **Jumin Han has entered the chatroom**

Oh, right. Jumin’s been visiting the chatroom a lot more, lately, too. Could he, also…?

> **707: Hiya Jumin.**
> 
> **Jumin Han: Hiya**
> 
> **[MC]: Hiya!**
> 
> **Jumin Han: Hiya**
> 
> **707: lololol**

Seven pays close attention to the conversation as it progresses between the three of you. You do spend a lot of time joking around, but, it feels like Jumin is quietly enjoying the attention. Although, of all the members, Jumin is the most difficult for Seven to predict. Unless it’s a prediction related to Elly or V.

>             **[MC]: I want to take a photo of Jumin picking grapes, lololol**

Maybe he should test the waters… if you’re interested in Jumin, you’ll need all the help you can get.

>             **707: Jumin…**
> 
> **707: I suddenly thought of this,**
> 
> **707: but if you want to give a touching gift to someone,**
> 
> **707: you can give them a bottle**
> 
> **707: of wine made with grapes you picked**
> 
> **707: and it will be**
> 
> **707: SO**
> 
> **707: TOUCHING!**
> 
> **707: Tears will be everywhere, lolol**
> 
> **707: ~*~Why don’t you give [MC] something like that~*~**

Okay, Jumin! This is your perfect chance!

>             **[MC]: Just give it to Elizabeth lolol~**

Sh-shot down before there was even a chance. _Sorry, Jumin~_ He breaks out into a grin. You aren’t tempted by a bottle of wine from the chairman’s son, huh? Interesting.

> **Jumin Han: I’d like to, but Elizabeth the 3 rd cannot drink wine**

Seven can’t help but encourage Jumin to consider producing a wine that his cat could drink. Hey, if he’s not going to spoil you, he can at least spoil the precious Elly~

Jumin takes the idea quite seriously.

> **[MC]: I’m sorry Jaehee**
> 
> **707: I also send my apologies to a certain Chief Assistant >.<**

The conversation winds up shortly afterwards and Seven heads back to work… and your puzzle.

The messenger is looking less and less likely as the place you’ve hidden the next clue. He’s run a quick search across the last day’s worth of messages, and nothing related to his ideas on ‘tortoiseshell’ have surfaced.

So. Your phone, your laptop, or the CCTV.

The CCTV is unlikely, but also easy to check. Nothing had changed about the system, and there’s been no activity over the last day that gives him any clues. Seems like you haven’t left the apartment all day, either.

All right then. That only leaves your laptop and your phone. _Where would she expect me to look?_

Really, he’d been leaning towards the laptop from the beginning. After all, you know he can log into it whenever he wants – that was part of the setup. No hacking required. But. Looking  at it… all those comments you keep making about setting photos of him as your background… he’s not sure how he feels about confirming those jokes one way or the other.

He tears open a package of ginger crackers – another of the spoils from Vanderwood’s earlier shopping trip – and begins a remote desktop connection. It seems like you’re using the laptop right now, watching a video on one part of the screen and – huh.

Approximately a quarter of your screen is just an open notepad file, with one line of text:

> _Hey~ <3 Be sure to say hi if you stop by~!_

He grins. Okay then. He drops the cursor into your notepad and starts typing:

> _H I Y A_
> 
> _L O L_

He waits a moment and – yes, you’ve paused the video and moved the cursor back to the notepad file too.

>             _Ahhhh, you finally came! Hi hi hi!_
> 
> _Are you ready to solve the puzzle? I’ll let you look around lol_

Well. No delaying it any longer. He minimises to the desktop, and –

_Ahahahaha, what._

 - he brings back up the notepad file to type

>             _omg~_

before returning to the desktop, and his view of the one folder on it:

> [ ](http://talesfromelectriceve.com/hosted_images/HisSide_18_01_large.png)

 

Well. That’s certainly a thing.

Inside the folder are about fifty image files. The filenames start at one but jump up at varying intervals. 1.jpg, then 5.jpg, 12.jpg and so on. Various animals and objects appear in all of them.

Right. Well. Animals, huh? Is there a tortoise, or…?

Yes, there it is. A photo of tortoiseshell cat. Of course. This puzzle was made for him, after all.

He looks closely at the image. Two things to keep in mind: you’ve only been working on this puzzle for a day or so, max. In all likelihood you threw it together in just a few hours. Second thing: this is a puzzle specifically built for him.

>             _cute kitty <3_

\- he types into the open notepad window. It feels like leaving you messages on a virtual whiteboard. No trace of the conversation will remain, once the text file is closed, unsaved. Something about that makes his heart beat a little faster. The beams of light that display the words you both share will disappear like a sunset, uncaptured and intangible.

Right, well. Back to the cat photo. Given you won’t have had time to do anything overly complex, you’ve probably hidden his next clue using one of a few simple image-based cryptography techniques.

_Yes!_ Success. All you’ve done here is append text file data to the image data. Easy enough to view the hidden text just by dropping the photo file into a text editor.

[Meow~]

>             [MC]: “It’s fun watching you solve this love”
> 
>             [MC]: “OMG”
> 
>             [MC]: “I meant”
> 
>             [MC]: “live”
> 
>             [MC]: “…”
> 
>             [MC]: “Anyway I’ll keep my hands off the keyboard so I don’t get in the way lolol”

He grins and types onto the first text file:

>             _glad u are enjoying this lol_

So. The hidden message at the end of the image file…

> [ ](http://talesfromelectriceve.com/hosted_images/HisSide_18_02_large.png)

The message contains further clues:

_"oooooo good job, meow~ u found the first of my secrets~ but there are two more in this folder lol_

_my pawfect advice for u: get to the root of the problem, but then... you'll need to put my measurements together... ^_~_

_but 2 get into my heart... you'll need the last pass... which only the pentagon has lolol good luck (I'd try #42)"_

Wh-what’s with the measurements thing again?! You... you don’t expect him to…

No, no. Stay focused. You might  tease, but… it’s likely not… that.

First, get to the root of the problem. _Again – how does she think I think? That’s all I need to remember…_

He opens up the top level of your computer’s filesystem – ahhh. Wow. Did you use a tool to create all this, or…?

There’s a _lot_ of folders in your operating system that shouldn’t normally be there, all called “HEART XXXXXX” with the XXXXXX being a six digit number. He highlights and selects them all. There’s over a thousand folders. All password-protected. 

So, he must need to work out which of these hearts is to be opened…? He could brute-force a solution, of course, without too much trouble. But he wants to play by your rules, for this game at least. He looks back at your clues.

Your measurements… combined. Sounds like he needs to multiply or add together some numbers to identify the correct heart folder number. The numbers are probably three digits each or perhaps four digits by two… or five by one…

He thinks about the information he has at hand, and experiments with a few quick guesses.

Your measurements, huh? _What about…_ he checks the dimensions of the tortoiseshell cat photo. Hmmm. 410 by 591 pixels – it’s pretty small. Add those together… well, that would give him a six digit number of 001 001. He looks at the folder list, but, nothing. No heart folders by that number. How about multiplying, then? That makes 242 310 – ah! There’s a HEART242310 folder! 

He can’t tell if he’s right yet, of course. Time to look at the next clue. The password for this heart – which, according to the clue, the Pentagon has.

Much like your measurements, he can’t get distracted with the implications of things being more than they are. The 42nd pentagon…

Well. The clue also stated there were another **two** secrets hidden in the first folder, and he hasn’t found the last, yet. The pentagon clue must be there, must be something you think would occur to him. So far, your puzzles have involved some basic maths and computing skills. So…

He spends a little time thinking, typing a little into the notepad window while his brain turns the problem over.

>             _this is fun lolol_
> 
> _u put a lot into this~_
> 
> _thanks~_

AhhhSHE%$bfdBER! WAIT! YES! Pentagonal numbers! 1, 5, 12…! The clue is the files! He goes back to the “SECRETS!!!!” folder and looks at each image file name. Yes, definitely. That’s definitely it. Each image file name is part of a pentagonal number series. So he just needs to find the 42nd number and try that as the password… which would make it… 4447!

He enters the four digits into the password prompt on the HEART242310 folder, and – yes!

>             [MC]: “Oooooh, nice work!”
> 
>             [MC]: “u really did get into my heart lolol”
> 
>             [MC]: “now u can collect ur prize”

There is a single text file inside the folder. He opens it up, and sees –

> [ ](http://talesfromelectriceve.com/hosted_images/HisSide_18_03_large.png)

\- cute ASCII art of two cats watching the moon, and an invitation to watch a NASA live stream event with you, one that’s happening in just a few days. No wonder you were getting impatient about him finding the solution.

Leaving messages in your notepad is cute, but it’s not going to be easy to have a real conversation that way. He sends you a text instead.

>             707: “Awwwwwwww”
> 
>             [MC]: “yeah!!!”

He laughs, then has to spend a few seconds coughing up a ginger cracker fragment. You just keep on  finding new ways to surprise him. Wiping the tears away from his eyes, he recovers and responds.

>             707: “such”
> 
>             707: “a”
> 
>             707: “cute”
> 
>             707: “kitty! lolololol”
> 
>             707: “You’re probably the only one who would say yeah!!! to that!!”
> 
>             [MC]: “so many messages from u at once~!”
> 
>             [MC]: “I’m happy~”
> 
>             [MC]: “I like hearing the sound~”
> 
>             707: “oooh what sound u using”
> 
>             [MC]: “~secret~ lol”
> 
>             [MC]: “can’t u find out anyway?”
> 
>             707: “lololol”
> 
>             707: “but I want u to tell it to me”
> 
>             707: “otherwise”
> 
>             707: “I’ll keep texting u”
> 
>             707: “to make the sound”
> 
>             707: “until u tell me”
> 
>             707: “it’s more exciting”
> 
>             707: “to get into ur mind”
> 
>             707: “than ur phone”
> 
>             707: “lol”
> 
>             [MC]: “…just as planned”
> 
>             707:”o no!”
> 
>             707: “I’ve fallen into your trap!”
> 
>             707: “I guess”
> 
>             707: “we’ll have to talk”
> 
>             707: “forever”
> 
>             707: “…”
> 
>             707: ”haha I wish”
> 
>             707: “that puzzle was fun tho~”
> 
>             707: “thank u”
> 
>             [MC]: “so… u wanna stream the NASA feed on the 30th?”
> 
>             [MC]: “we could talk on our phones while it’s on, or…”
> 
>             707: “lolol I’ll try”
> 
>             707: “can’t promise my boss won’t get in the way lol”
> 
>             707: “my work”
> 
>             707: “owns me lol”
> 
>             707: “but…”
> 
>             [MC]: “omg!’”
> 
>             [MC]: “V just appeared on the messenger!”

V! Why hasn’t he called, again?! Seven quickly switches focus on his phone back to the messenger.

>             **707 has entered the chatroom**
> 
> **V: Ah, Luciel, good timing**
> 
> **707: Nah, [MC] told me you were here**
> 
> **V: Nice, [MC] ^^**
> 
> **V: I have something to say to everyone**
> 
> **707: Did you…**
> 
> **707: Did you set the date?**
> 
> **V: I did.**
> 
> **[MC]: Wow…! When is it?**

V suggests holding the party at the end of the following week. So soon! Seven’s skeptical, but V is very clear that this is what he wants, and you seem to be handling the news with equanimity. If both you and V think it’s manageable, Seven’s not about to argue. Not that he has much of a choice when it comes to V’s commands, anyway.

It’s not the only news V has to impart, though. He’s going on a trip, again. _Why now? When so many new things are going on in the RFA?_ V won’t respond to further questions, not even where he intends traveling to. Seven has to be satisfied with just explaining the new bug detection features of V’s phone. It’s not much, but at least he can feel he’s done something for V’s safety.

After V leaves, Seven wraps up his conversation with you and turns back to his work. The puzzle was a fun distraction, but if he wants any chance of keeping his sort-of-a-promise to you, he’d getter get ahead of schedule. Resting  his head in one hand, he reviews the code he’s written so far and, for once, doesn’t find himself resentfully pondering exactly how many things he could get away with doing to his boss’ computer. Instead. You… he almost types your name into his command line window before he realises what he’s doing. Then. He freezes.

Wait.

On reflection.

Isn’t your invitation a little like… a date?

_I mean, obviously, it’s not._ He’s clearly the RFA member most likely to be interested in that stuff, and you might not have any other friends you can watch it with. It’s not, like. An actual. Date. You’re not even going to be in the same room. Hahahahaha… _what am I thinking?_

He rolls his shoulders back and shakes his head. Right. Focus. Headphones on. Gotta make progress. Get ahead of the game. Knock this next client’s requests out as quickly as possible, no distractions. That way he’ll definitely make the da- the thing. Event. It’d be a shame to miss it when you went to so much effort to invite him.

Hopefully, other than the party, nothing else requiring his attention will come up over the next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one other message hidden in this chapter - did you notice it? ^^
> 
> I've modified the way these chats began (MC calling Seven into the chat with V for example) just to better suit the flow of the fic - like always, there are minor tweaks here and there just to better suit the story without changing the overall plot.
> 
> I found the ASCII art used in MC's invitation to Seven here: [https://user.xmission.com/~emailbox/ascii_cats.htm ](https://user.xmission.com/~emailbox/ascii_cats.htm)
> 
> And with that, we've finally completed Day Four!


	19. Day five: early morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The RFA server has been hacked, and Seven is beside himself. And then in an attempt to check on you, he ends shattering his mind into even more pieces thanks to a certain unintended bit of voyuerism...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Seven (in game) and Cheritz (in some versions of the VIP package) have used both male and female pronouns for Vanderwood. On Cheritz's side, this seems to have been explained as a translation error. As far as Seven is concerned, it seems to mostly just be because it annoys Vanderwood (I'll give you my headcanons as to why in a sec).
> 
> However, in the circle of MysMe artists and writers I hang out with, there's a common headcanon than Vanderwood is non-binary. Which I quite like. It also lends itself to an explanation for why Seven teases Vanderwood like this - when they met, Vanderwood pretty much shrugged at the pronouns thing "Call me whatever you want" - they had no preference. He, she, they - all fine. However Vanderwood was not counting on Agent 707's sheer delight about the doors this opened, who then proceeded to use every pronoun under the sun, every time he talked with Vanderwood, just to tick them off. Seven even went and googled some incredibly obscure ones just because... he can't help himself. And Vanderwood only gets mad at Seven's use of pronouns in-game because _they know Seven's only doing it to annoy them_. 
> 
> Until now, even while accepting this HC, I've been mentally using "he" for Vanderwood because again, in-game Vanderwood seems to either prefer or not mind that one as much when speaking to Seven. However, I did think of some of the wonderful people I've met through this fandom, some of whom are NB and only use "they". And I thought, why not try writing with they pronouns for a change? It's a challenge, because "they" can cause some ambiguity in the English language, and I struggle to use it in real life because for me it has the connotation of distance that I don't feel as an English speaker using "he", "she", "xie" etc.
> 
> I've done my best to avoid framing things confusingly. I hope you understand my reasons, and enjoy the chapter regardless of your own personal take on Vanderwood as a character. Thank you all for waiting so patiently for this update, I plan to post one more before the end of the year.

## Day five: early morning

_A cat… and a human… dancing in space… I need to find the right frequency to reach them…_

**BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.**

_Sounds familiar._ Seven rolls over, pushing his face harder into the couch cushions. _Isn’t that… important?_ Something he had to pay attention to, right?

_I have to escape…?_

Amongst the stars, he floats inside a dark, liquid-filled bubble... sphere _… thing_. Outside the bubble, the faint rectangular outline of his phone is barely visible. The walls of the sphere he’s suspended in are grimy – if his phone screen was off he’d barely be able to see it against the blackness of space. _I have to reach the phone before the screen turns off_. But moving around the bubble is no easy task. The pressure of the liquid around him pushes into his eyes, his ears, his lungs.

His hands… finally, his hands meet the greasy barrier between him and the phone… he pushes, but it’s like pressing into rubbery mud. The walls deform around him, covering his hands, but won’t let him through.

And then, it’s too late. The sound he was chasing stops. His phone becomes invisible amongst the stars. _Failed…_ the walls of the bubble are moving now, sticking to him, pushing him backwards -

“Hello. How can you sleep right now?” Vanderwood pulls back the gloved hand that had been shaking Seven’s shoulder and drops a pair of glasses onto the prone hacker’s stomach with the other. “And don’t leave these on the floor. I nearly stepped on them.”

Groaning, Seven rubs his eyes and sits up on the couch, wiping the glasses with his shirt before putting them back on. Vanderwood’s eyes are travelling around the house, looking at every new stain and crumpled can with obvious displeasure. Seven absently brushes chip crumbs off his legs onto the floor and then smirks, noting how the cloaked agent before him glares at each crumb as if it was a personal insult.

Vanderwood sighs like the entire world just showed up outside their door waiting to be tasered, one by one. “Why is your house like this all the time? Empty soda cans, potato chip bags… and WHY is there so much origami everywhere now? I found thirteen cats inside our mission briefing folder! I’d **locked** that cabinet. Do you have ADHD or something…? I can’t believe you manage to get any work done here.” Vanderwood picks up a couch cushion and gives it a solid thump, tutting as more crumbs fall off onto the floor. “Ugh…! Your sofa smells like soda.” Cushion still in hand, Vanderwood glances down at Seven, who makes no indication of standing. “Speaking of work. Your update is late.”

Seven grins and gestures at the small tower of empty PhD Pepper can on a nearby table. “Since my house is like this, I can’t help but imagine all the dust particles that fly around here… it’s just so distracting.” Standing, Seven pantomimes staring intently at every corner of the room, letting his mouth hang open in shock. “Huh?! Decoding it in my imagination is making me hallucinate all the palm oil particles from the HBC multiplying exponentially!” He waves his hands, making grasping motions in the air, as if trying to grab every single invisible speck of imaginary chip dust. “I want to eat them! Oh god…! I see corn starch and honey particles floating around over there…!” Seven stands and begins to wander towards the nearest wall, arms outstretched.

“What the hell are you doing, you weirdo…?” Seven ducks as Vanderwood pitches the de-crumbed sofa cushion at his head. “Fine. I’ll clean up your filth… so just get back to work!”

“Okay, okay… white flag!” Seven turns back towards the main surveillance desk in the corner of the room, lifting his hands up to the ceiling. “Tell the firing squad to stand down!!!”

Vanderwood mutters uncharitably as they collect the cushion from its landing place, placing it gently back on the couch at a magazine-perfect angle. Glancing up, Vanderwood sees Seven watching, with a grin just annoying enough to prompt a snarled “You idiot!” Seven grins wider and backs away, hands still in the air until he bumps into his computer chair with a muffled thud.

Turning, Seven’s eyes fall on the monitors arrayed around his main work area. The usual mix of surveillance footage and data feeds are on display, but. That’s not all. His mouth drops open. “Huh? What? But why…?” Still standing, he bends over the keyboard and attempts a few commands. “Vanderwood… come see this.”

A consummate professional, Vanderwood sheds their earlier irritation and strides to Seven’s side in seconds. They peer at the information onscreen. “…Hey, I think you got hacked. What server’s this?”

Seven’s reply is distant, his hands frozen above the keyboard, eyes wide. “This is… this is the RFA messenger server…”

Bringing up the logs, Seven can see traces of what was done – his new, improved encryption… torn to shreds. It feels personal. Aggressive.

“Vanderwoood! Can you check CCTV footage, quick reference ID RFA-1? See if there’s been any activity in the last couple hours. I just need to deal with the immediate security issues.”

Vanderwood sighs, nudging Seven out of the way. In a single smooth movement the cloaked agent swings a leg over the computer chair and settles down to work. They wave a gloved hand in Seven’s general direction. “I’m on it. Make it quick, okay?”

As Vanderwood sifts through the last few hours of footage, looking for evidence of trespass or replaced frames, Seven pulls out his phone and drops back onto his earlier position on the couch. _Okay._ _Priorities._ Inform V. Confirm you’re safe. Protect everyone.

Easy, right?

He brings up his phone contacts screen, flipping open the lid of his laptop with his free hand.

V will surely allow guards to be sent to [MC]’s address, if he knows the situation. Surely.

_Brrrrrrrrrrr…. Brrrrrrrrrrrr…_

“The person you have called is unavailable or has disconn-“

Seven bites his lip. Yeah. Not entirely unexpected. He’ll try again later. It’s okay. This is okay.

It’s then that notices the flashing red light by his laptop’s power button. _Shit._ He groans loudly. Where did he -

Vanderwood calls down from the main workspace. “Your laptop charger is on the kitchen bench! Idiot!”

“Thank you~” Seven sings out, more weakly than he’d intended. Vanderwood has already turned back to the CCTV feed.

Seven retrieves the charger from the kitchen while dialling your number.

“Hi~”

“[MC], hey. Uh –“

“I’m trapped! Or on fire! Or something like that! That’s the only excuse I can give as to why I’m not answering my phone right now! Maybe send me a text or leave a message after the tone, and I’ll get back to you once I’ve escaped! And am less on fire. Thank you~”

He hangs up before the beep. There’s a coppery taste in his mouth.

You’ve never missed a call from him before. _What time is it?_ Ah. Right. Maybe you’re just asleep. With your phone on silent. Not kidnapped. Or, or – _god._ The security system. He plugs the charger back into his laptop and kicks the table impatiently as he brings up the system's status. No, no. It’s all untouched. All fine. You’re… probably not on fire.

Probably.

He can’t stand it. If this was his mission, and _he_ was after you, this disruption is exactly the time he’d…

He wipes his hands on the couch, but it doesn’t remove the clammy feeling.

Seven opens a secure connection to your laptop. It’s running – there’s a browser window open – looks like the last thing you did was an image search for otter photos. You don’t seem to be using the laptop right now.

The notepad window from your earlier conversation is still open, too. Untouched. He adds a new line:

>             _When u see this, please, log into the messenger!!! >_<_

It’s worth a shot. If he had carrier pigeons, he’d send those too.

Seven activates your webcam. _Damn._ He rests his head in his both hands, rubbing at his forehead. You aren’t there. The room is fully lit, at least. He has a view of the floor and part of a coffee table. There’s nothing that indicates a struggle, but –

\- a pair of feet come into view. Feminine feet.

You drop to the floor in front of the laptop. _Thank… thank god._ You’re there. Alive. Safe. Damp hair stuck to your face, neck and the gentle swell of your -

You’re only wearing a towel.

He’s still processing this fact as you raise your eyes to look directly at him. Seven yelps and disconnects, hoping you didn’t notice the red light that was almost certainly on, indicating the active camera.

He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head and buries his face in his hands, fighting the urge to just scream _WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK_ to the entire universe. God, he really hopes you didn’t see the light. He’ll die. He’s dead. Slain again. It’s not fair. _Why is the grim reaper so goddamn hot._

Okay. Focus. You’re safe – _practically naked_ – and alive – _and damp_ – and. And he is a **professional** who is **_definitely_** _only thinking about two of those facts right now._

He takes a minute to clear his mind. Right. Next step. Let everyone know what’s happened, what they need to do next. Keep things positive. Keep the facts straight. Don’t think about necks or damp bodies or the two scoops of you-flavoured ice-cream barely covered by that - _fuck_. _I am wrecked. Who the hell am I right now?_

707 is needed. 707 is the person to deal with this. Not whatever his brain is doing right now.

Deep breaths. Seven composes himself and logs onto the messenger.

> **[707 has entered the chatroom]**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: Luciel, don’t you have something to say to me?**
> 
> **[MC]: Seven!! Run for your life!!**
> 
> **707: Meow?**

Jaehee’s complaints about the role Seven played in Jumin’s latest cat project idea are brief but savage. She then goes to report the “bugs” encountered by herself, Yoosung and you – strange phenomena the messenger made earlier in the night. Beeping. Unusual messages. _Oh._ This. This is not good.

> **707: Rather than let the sensitive one, the cute one, and the game addict meet their downfall,**
> 
> **707: It is time for me to come to the rescue.**
> 
> **[MC]: *~*ooh!*~***
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: You talk as if you’re a superhero;;**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: but isn’t it your fault that there’s a bug in the first place?**
> 
> **707: But right now**
> 
> **707: it’s an**
> 
> **707: emergency!!!**
> 
> **[MC]: Everyone, move over!!**
> 
> **707: Yes, move over!!**
> 
> **707: We must destroy our enemies!!**
> 
> **707: Princess, I will be your knight in shining armour!!!**
> 
> **[MC]: My hero!!!**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: You two make a great couple…**

_Jaehee._ That stops him in his tracks. A couple. _Does Jaehee think -_

> **Jaehee Kang: Luciel.**
> 
> **707: Ya?**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: Stop being annoying and just fix the bug.**

Scrolling through server logs on his laptop as he chats, Seven quickly explains that there’s not so much a bug as there is a hacker – but reassures you both that no one can read the chat logs. It appears that all the hacker managed to do was cause a few glitches, including the alarm sounds Jaehee and Yoosung had heard earlier. The only other thing the hacker did was attempt to place a call through the messenger system. W _ho were they trying to call?_ Questions for later.

You ask Seven if he thinks this latest attack is caused by the same hacker that brought you to the RFA. He agrees that it’s quite likely, given the events of the last week.

> **Jaehee Kang: You managed to sound very positive**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: despite knowing this shocking information**
> 
> **707: it’ll be more depressing if you sound depressing!**
> 
> **[MC]: Yup. Let’s not be depressed and just work towards a solution!**
> 
> **707: Right you are!**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: You two are very… positive…**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: I suppose it’s good..**

Seven suggests that Jumin could provide some guards for all members until a more permanent solution has been found. The hacker might not have actively harmed anyone yet, but the fact that the RFA is being directly targeted is enough to warrant it.

> **707: but what do we do about [MC]?**

Ugh. If only he could just…

> **MC: I… will have Seven’s blessing!!**

God. You’re too kind. He just wants to. If he could only…

> **707: <3 I will bestow blessing on you… [MC]…**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: Please be serious about this.**

There’s no point saying it when he can’t do it. But…

> **707: If I’m serious about this,**
> 
> **707: I would like to go there myself**
> 
> **707: to protect [MC] if possible…**
> 
> **MC: Yay!!! God Seven!!!**

The fact that he knows you’re practically naked right now, and excitedly responding to messages about him visiting you, is not helping Seven’s state of mind at all.

> **707: Oh.**
> 
> **707: My brain is starting to race**
> 
> **707: ~*~at such a warm welcome, hahaha.~*~**
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: You mean your heart.**
> 
> **MC: ^^**
> 
> **707: Thank you but**
> 
> **707: I can’t go right away.**
> 
> ****

Tapping his foot against the ground, Seven explains that he can’t escape his work right now, but he’ll do his best by keeping his eye on the CCTV alongside his “lovely maid”. It’s not ideal, but – until he hears from V, it’s all he can really do.

> **707: I will be back** **★**
> 
> **MC: I’ll be waiting for you** **☆**

_So… cute._

> **707: OMG we’re reading each other’s minds.**
> 
> ****
> 
> **Jaehee Kang: …You two are such a funny duo ^^**
> 
> **[707 has left the chatroom]**

He tries calling V again, with no success. _Why did you have to go away **now**? What am I supposed to **do**?_ If he could just send you some bodyguards, Seven would have so much less to worry about.

He rubs at his temples again. His brain feels as functional as diced ham. He can’t break his promise to V. Seven can lie, and sneak, and steal for the agency. But if he breaks that trust V has placed in him, then he’ll truly be garbage. So long as he holds that loyalty close, so long as he can keep the RFA safe, then… there’s some part of him left that doesn’t deserve condemnation.

The apartment’s location has to remain a secret.

_V… call me back soon._

Although if he’s honest, there’s a voice he wants to hear more even more than V’s…

_[Meow~]_

> [MC]: “hey… sorry to bother you”
> 
>             [MC]: “but I noticed my laptop camera was on earlier and I just wanted to check… if you think that could have been the hacker too? Or…?”

_Crap._

> 707: “oh”
> 
>             707: “you don’t need to worry”
> 
>             707: “your laptop definitely wasn’t compromised”

_Is she going to ask…_

> [MC]: “Ah~ That’s a relief!”
> 
>             [MC]: “I feel safer knowing you’re watching out for me :)”

Your choice of words is ambiguous enough to send his brain spiralling again. _Does she mean the CCTV or – god, she absolutely knows, she absolutely does, she’s not an idiot, and she’s not even –_

He shakes his head. Right. He clearly can’t concentrate sitting here on the couch. A change of scenery will help him focus. Time to draw some strength from his ultimate power source. He heads into the garage.

…

An hour later and Seven’s confident that the hacker isn’t going to be able to use the same tactics again. The security still needs to be strengthened further, but this will at least slow the hacker down and alert him earlier if another attempt is made. Seven disturbs the dust on the garage floor as he stretches and rolls his neck, his back pressed firmly against the white body of one of his precious cars. Sitting inside his car to work for so long wouldn’t be comfortable. But resting against one, with its perfect, polished exterior and top-of-the-line tyres… it’s reassuring. Seeing them out of the corner of his eye as he works puts him at ease. Once Vanderwood finishes reviewing the footage, then he’ll go keep an eye on you, instead.

It’s odd that the hacker didn’t seem to try to download any messages at all – a very appealing target for anyone managing to get that deep into a system. Instead, all the hacker did was alert Seven to his presence, and, as it turns out… tried to call you.

_Why...?_

Is there something about you he’s missed?

Is all the kindness you’ve shown him… part of some larger plot?

The thought fills his burns like acid in his stomach.

It can’t be like that.

But still…

You’re. You’re kind of suspiciously appealing, right? Smart. Funny. Kind. Cute. And you always pay him so much attention. Could it be that you…?

God. No. V trusts you. And he… trusts you too. But. _Am I letting my attraction cloud my judgement? I shouldn’t rule this out._

”What am I doing?” he groans, placing the laptop to one side and shaking his legs, which have started to go numb from how long he’s been sitting like this. Even if you were planted to target him _(but who even knows about me?)_ you’re clearly the one being used. It couldn’t be something you were aware of, you’d -

Your ringtone begins to play. He stares at the caller ID for a few seconds. He’s not sure he can handle talking to you so soon after being caught out with the camera.

No. He has to answer. What if something’s happened?

“N-nya… meow???? S-Seven meowing, uh, I mean, speaking~”

Your giggle makes answering all worth it. Although now he can’t think of a thing to say. All he can think about is how you know that he knows that you know that –

“I was worrying you were stressed out… I hope you’re doing okay, meow~” You don’t bring up the camera, and instead lead him down a meaningless, silly path, joking about cat dogs and god dogs. No accusations, no teasing.

As he listens, he draws a UFO in the garage floor dust with one finger. _She’s just worried about me._ His earlier doubt still hangs over him like a spectre, but he can’t deny that just hearing your voice is washing away the tension he’s been storing over the last few hours… only for all of it to come back at once as he catches a glimpse of Vanderwood’s outline in the garage doorway.

“Gahhhh! A spy who’s dressed up like a woman is staring at me! I have to hang up!” He shifts his voice into a monotone. “Beep beep beep, your call has ended. I mean it. Press the end button.”

Vanderwood is fiddling with the lights near the entrance – Seven had everything turned down to a minimum – full light had just felt too harsh for him to handle right now.

As the lights flicker on, Seven carries on speaking to you in his robo-voice. “Even if you continue listening, you cannot talk with me.” He hears your gentle breathing on the other end of the line. What are you thinking? “But…if you like Seven that much… then just continue to listen.”

“…”

You don’t hang up.

A-are you seriously…? He can feel his face getting hotter, and it’s not because of all the lights Vanderwood is switching on.

He can’t take it. “O-oh? Oh, oh come on! You’re embarrassing me~! Don’t joke around. I’m really going to hang up now!” He brushes his hair back and turns his head so the approaching Vanderwood can’t see his expression. “So u-uhm yeah…” he stutters, imagining you listening, smiling, _still in that towel -_ “good night!”

Vanderwood towers over him. “So, who was that? Not your RFA boss, from the sound of it.”

“Oh~ No, no, just making an order from an angel for a delivery of a new solar system~” Seven grins upwards at the looming figure before him. “Do you want me to throw in a few extra planets just for you?”

Vanderwood folds their arms and stares at Seven for a minute before raising their gaze towards the rest of the garage. “There’s nothing on that surveillance footage. No tampering, no people going in or out during that time period. Are you good to go back to work now?”

 “That’s great…” Seven tucks his phone back into his hoodie pocket. “I’ll keep an eye on the CCTV while I work, so: you can go back to cleaning!”

“G-go back to!?” Vanderwood’s hand strays towards the taser at their hip. “Who exactly do you think is in charge here, huh?”

“Hey, hey~” Seven sings, standing and brushing the garage floor dust from his jeans. “As long as it gets done, right?”

“Just make sure that you do it…and -” Vanderwood grabs Seven’s arm lightly as he walks past “- don’t spent too much time staring at that apartment door, okay?“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, for reading! If you only follow this fic, you might not have seen that [on Christmas Day I posted a special extended version of Seven's Christmas DLC ending](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9051283) \- one that includes smooches! I loved the Christmas DLC but I just had to write a little extra for that scene... I needed that smooch!
> 
> And again, I plan to post a new chapter for this fic before the end of 2016 - please look forward to it! I'll do my best to continue to update regularly, I am very committed to seeing this fic through to the end. My job and life get in the way at times, but I'll keep on pushing ahead for Seven~


	20. Day five: morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven receives encouragement from an unexpected source, and burning hot pain from a fairly expected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A week or so ago I promised myself I'd post three new updates over my week off from work, before the end of 2016! This marks the third! (The Christmas DLC fic, and the previous chapter, were the first two~☆) I'm posting it with two hours left of 2016, in my timezone at least. Whee, I made it!
> 
> I look forward to posting many many more chapters and works over 2017 ♡ ＼＿ﾍ(◕‿◕✰)

## Day five: morning

“Whyyyyyyyyyy…” Seven briefly takes off his glasses, rubbing at the indent on his nose where they normally rest. It’s bad enough the agency work keeps taking him away from tracing the hacker. The least they could do would be to use his time effectively. But instead, the client wants the latest database exported into a totally useless, outdated format, and in a way that breaks so many references between different information sources… how are they such a powerful entity with such crappy software? He might as well be carving this latest data dump onto a rock for how easy it will be for the client to utilise the information after this.

He glances up at the CCTV feed, but it continues to show an empty corridor, Rika’s front door unopened and secured as always. You haven’t come outside this whole time.

Dragging his eyes slowly back to the messy nightmare of data on his screen, Seven picks up the BAIBO robotic dog body from where it rests on his lap. He’s been gradually stripping the robot back to its core parts as he works, making a few modifications here and there. Keeping his hands busy alleviates the stress of the agency work, just a little. _And… hmmmm. If I added the fuel source, here, I could probably have some flames come out without compromising the body… it could chase off anyone coming after her with those…_

“Gaaaak!” Seven squeaks as a freshly steamed bun is dropped directly onto his lap. He fumbles ineffectively at it for a few seconds, yelping again at the heat, before finally transferring it to the desk. Wiping condensation off the robot dog’s body, he turns to Vanderwood with an exaggerated pout. “Wh-what was that for?”

“Eat it. And drink some actual water,” Vanderwood commands, plonking a glass next to Seven’s keyboard. “I am not cleaning the bathroom again just because you can’t understand how to feed yourself. Also -” a gloved hand gestures exaggeratedly towards the robot parts in Seven’s lap “– just work if you have time for that.”

Seven looks down at the pieces and then grins back up at Vanderwood. “It helps me think, madam! Please do not question the integrity of the artist!”

“Whatever… just get it done. We’re running out of time as it is. I’m going back to decrypting the third transfer… you’d better be ready for the new data when I’m finished.” Vanderwood stalks back to the server room, managing a dramatic flip of their cape despite the cramped nature of the monitoring area.

…

Seven makes steady, if frustrating progress. It’s much slower than his normal pace. Work, check CCTV, fiddle with robot, check CCTV, work. When his phone rings, it’s a welcome escape. Although the identity of the caller is a little surprising.

“Luciel.”

“Oh my, it's the future chairman~! Have you finally decided to honour my request and give me sweet El–“

“This isn’t the time for games, Luciel. I have business with you.” Jumin sounds serious as always, but Seven can detect some underlying note to his voice that wasn’t there the last time they spoke. Admittedly, they didn’t speak often. But still. _What_ is _this?_ “Have you managed to contact V, yet?”

There it is, again. That underlying… something. Stronger when he mentioned V.

“Unfortunately, no.” Seven pushes himself back from his position at the desk, raising both legs in the air and stretching them out, toes pointed, feeling the tension in his hips from being seated so long. “If he does give me any messages to pass on, I’ll let everyone know in the chatroom, of course.” He bounces his legs in the air a few times, the small movements slowly restoring circulation to his legs.

“Then. Are we really going to leave her alone there?”

Seven inhales sharply. “I… uh. I **am** watching her.”

“The hallway. Yes.” Jumin clears his throat. “While it’s wise not to alarm her, I’m sure you’ve considered that there are some threats that cannot be resolved by this method alone.” The words, vague though they might be, crawl across Seven’s skin like a centipede. One leg for every way he’s already considered how you might be – _ugh_.

“I’m… working on it, Jumin.”

“I’m sure that you are. However –“

 _Please, don’t give me any more reasons._ “Jumin. Are you asking me to ignore V, or -?”

“– rather than being concerned for herself, this morning she expressed to both myself and Zen a strong desire to see you. She appears to be more concerned for your well-being than she is about the hacker.”

Seven leans back in his chair, lifting his head to stare at the blank ceiling above him. “Huh… she did, did she…”

“I remember someone telling me that everyone has his or her soulmate.”

Seven’s grip on his phone loosens for a moment, as does his jaw. “What?” He yanks at the headphone cables hanging from his neck with his free hand, eyes drawn back to the CCTV feed. “Jumin, do you have a fever? And, uh,” he stands, turning his back to the screens, “you know that Elly is the-“

“You may call Assistant Kang as soon as V has approved the disclosure of the apartment location. Don’t worry about the time. She will answer and action the request immediately.” Jumin exhales, not quite a sigh, not quite a snort. “And it’s Elizabeth 3rd.”

Seven, turning again to stare at the ever-lifeless CCTV feed, clicks his tongue absently. “I don’t know if V… is going to say yes…”

“The V I knew – no. Never mind. Speculation is pointless. However, in the interim, I’d suggest you complete your work, in order to allow us additional options for resolving this situation. If there are any materials you can safely hand over to Assistant Kang, I will lend my personal support to ensure the tasks are completed.” Seven hears an unfamiliar voice attempt to gain Jumin’s attention on his side of the line. “Ah. It’s time for my meeting. Well, then.” He hangs up almost as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

 _Jumin…_ What an offer. If only he could accept it. If only he could give some of this work to someone else.

If he’d just been a little better, if the RFA server had been that little stronger, this situation wouldn’t even be happening. Is this it? Has he reached his peak, and now his brief talents are burning out, leaving nothing behind that he can offer the world? Is he getting stupider every minute?

You must be so disappointed. And scared. You might be putting on a brave face in the messenger, but Jumin doesn’t understand you like he does. You must be so worried.

The phone in his hands is still warm from Jumin’s call. _God. I never even apologised to her. All I did was listen to her worry about me._ He taps on your icon. The phone barely makes it to his ear before you answer.

He presses most of his weight into the closest wall with one hand, staring down at the floor. “It’s me… I, uh… I’m sorry.” He stares at his own feet, unseeing. “I’m sure you were surprised. That the hacker got to you. Again.”

“Seven, it’s okay. I know you’re doing your best.”

He sighs into the phone. “When you say that, somehow I just feel worse…I should have done better… I should have known better than to let hackers attack you… I don’t know what to say.”

Neither of you speak for a moment.

“It’s been a really long time… since someone attacked me so aggressively…” He scuffs the floor with his right foot. “I fixed everything back then so I thought it was all fine, but now this is happening again…” The last sentence is so soft it barely carries over the phone. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry. I’m… I’m sorry I distracted you with that puzzle, it sounds like your workload just got bigger.”

“Oh!” He straightens up, glancing back to the CCTV again. He wishes you’d come out, just for a minute. “No! That was nothing! I mean, I didn’t spend that much time – that has nothing to do with any of this, honestly! It’s not your fault! Please don’t feel bad.”

He can’t help you like this. He summons up his Defender of Justice persona with as much bluster as he can manage, and proclaims theatrically that he’s going to sort everything out.

You laugh quietly. Did it work? You still seem a little more subdued than usual. He tries a little harder.  “I pledge that I, 707, will get through the situation and make sure that you are safe once again!” He drops his voice again, realising Vanderwood might be able to hear. “How about it? Pretty reliable, huh?”

“Yeah… you don’t need to worry, I believe in you! I feel good knowing you’ll be watching. Actually, I was thinking, it doesn’t bother me if you wanted to leave a connection open to my web-“

Seven hears a door open from somewhere nearby. Is Vanderwood coming back?

“Uh – I’m sorry, I gotta go. But! 707 will try his best! To make sure you are safe! Bye now!” He hangs up and sits back at the desk, but Vanderwood doesn’t seem to be coming in after all.

He stares up at the CCTV monitor again, but you still aren’t there. _I should have just asked._ Wait. What. Like ‘Hey, would you mind coming outside so I can look at you?’ Because _that’s_ not extremely creepy and weird at all.

It doesn’t change the fact that he’d feel so, so much better if he could just. See you. Hear you. Just a little continuous feedback, letting him know you were safe. Just until the hacker thing was sorted out.

It’d make it… so much easier… to focus…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, we get to see the cute chat with Jaehee about how he keeps checking the cameras every 2.35 seconds...   
> (੭ु ›ω‹ )੭ु⁾⁾♡
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has cheered me on while writing this fic here, on Twitter and Tumblr this year - it's this warm, creative fandom that really makes writing this such a pleasure. I can't express how much everyone's support has meant. I'm rediscovering the joy of writing all over again ｡･ﾟ(ﾟ⊃ω⊂ﾟ)ﾟ･｡
> 
> A happy new year to all of you!!! ♡〜٩( ╹▿╹ )۶〜♡


	21. Day five: midday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven stares deeply into nyan cat's eyes, as you vanish from the apartment on an unknown errand.

## Day five: midday

He wonders how long you’ll be gone.

It’s not like you **can’t** leave the apartment. _I mean, clearly, she can._ He has the footage to prove it. You left, oh… about… eighteen minutes and thirty-eight seconds ago. Roughly.

Seven rubs at his ear under his headphones while staring at the CCTV feed. Maybe he should give you some self-defence tips.

You were wearing your backpack again. Do you know what to do if someone grabs you by your backpack so that you don’t get pulled to the ground? Maybe he could text you some diagrams… he pushes himself away from his desk. There’s something like this in one of the agency manuals.

It shouldn’t be too difficult to find them in the storeroom. Plus, then he can sneak a few more origami cats into the archives while Vanderwood isn’t looking.

…

The storeroom door is just as gaudy as the rest of his bunker, a large “Beware of the leopards” sign by the entrance, with a little doodle of Vanderwood underneath. It’s somewhat smudged from the number of times Vanderwood has attempted to remove their likeness. Seven comes back from time to time to touch it up. He’s particularly proud of the fangs.

The main barrier against intruders is more subtle: a small eye scanner hidden behind a Nyan Cat poster on the opposite wall.

“NYAAAAAAA~ IDENTITY CONFIRMED, MEOW~” comes a cute, squeaky voice from a concealed speaker. The reinforced door slides open, revealing a room much deeper you’d expect, if you looked at the floorplans. Which you wouldn’t, given the only copy of those was also stored within this secured area. Locked cabinets and safes line the walls. Sometimes, the best defence against a hacker is to never store the information digitally in the first place.

 It’s all much, much neater than the rest of his house. And probably the most dangerous place to be.

He runs his hands over the nearest wall, designed to withstand extreme and sudden heat. In the event of his death, this whole place would be torched within minutes, nothing left for any intruder able to bypass his various security measures. Sometimes he thinks he should put his box of keepsakes in here, the most secured part of his home.

Keeping it with agency materials, though… feels like it would taint those memories. And despite everything, the idea of them burning, even after his own death, reduced to ashes in this dark and hidden place… it makes him nauseous.

“Hmmm… where would those manuals be filed…” he mutters to himself, striding down an aisle of heavy-looking cabinets. It wouldn’t be good to leave the CCTV unwatched for too long. But he doesn’t want Vanderwood to know he’s doing this, either.

“Would I have filed them under ‘S’ for ‘shithole’ or ‘H’ for ‘hellscape’…?” He laughs quietly at his own not-a-joke joke. Someone has to.

He fusses around with one locked cabinet, keying in the correct, excessively long sequence of digits required. Once opened, he thumbs through the documents on the shelves within, slipping a few more origami cats from his pockets into some random pages as he goes. _Ahhh, this looks handy._ Grapples, throws. Ways to re-direct the motion of an attacker. It’s not particularly top secret stuff, compared to what else he has in here, but anything produced by the agency is automatically assigned to this room. He hasn’t become such a successful agent by leaving things lying around. Other than chip packets, that is. And cans. And pants. But, they weren’t top secret pants. So, it’s fine.

Top secret… he stares at the agency manual before him. Texting you photos of a manual like this would, well. It’d put you in danger. On reflection. Seven sighs and hits himself in the face with the papers. _And even if I could share them…it’s not like looking at a diagram is going to really…_

“Where. Is. My. Brain?” he asks no one in particular.

“UNRECOGNISED COMMAND OR RECORD NAME, MEOW~”

“Oh. Not you. Sorry.”

“APOLOGY ACCEPTED, NYA~”

He turns his head to look with suspicion in the direction of his distant server room. Has his internal security AI been talking to his external security AI? He’s sure it wasn’t this clever before.

His external security system is a lot more aggressive…. he used part of it as a model for the smarts he’s building into that modified BAIBO robot. The internal system doesn’t really need to talk a lot, though. He’s always meant to develop it more, but…

_Hmmmm… maybe she’d like this voice, more… it’s definitely cuter._

Your face pops into his mind. The expression he saw on it, earlier, as you were leaving the apartment.

You’d turned. Looked up at the camera.

…your eyes met…

…you waved…

…you smiled… at him…

Usually, the people he watches don’t know he’s watching them. It’s kind of the point.

But… you know. When you looked up at him, through the cameras, if felt like you knew he was looking, at that exact moment.

And you smiled.

You **smiled.**

When was the last time someone smiled at him? He rubs at his arms, suddenly covered in goose bumps. _Probably Yoosung…? That last time we went to the arcade…?_

Yoosung… He checks the time. Hmm, he’d be on his way to campus right now. His first class would be starting in a little under an hour.

He texts Yoosung a quick photo he’d taken of the robot dog earlier, but it doesn’t send. _Oh. Right._ Seven steps out of the secured room and closes the door, and gives his phone a chance to to reconnect to the network. Sending the text a second time, he stares intently at the cheerful, pixelated cat poster across from him. _Maybe next time, I should build a cat…?_ He leans against the reinforced door and waits. Yoosung’s usually quick to check his messages when he’s meant to be focusing on school. It’s one of life’s most reliable constants.

But. No reply appears.

Is Yoosung’s phone in his bag, maybe? Or perhaps Jumin’s body guards are distracting him.

The phone’s screen continues to defy him. No notifications. No calls.

Yoosung’s gone dark. You’re off who knows where. And he’s trapped in here, with no option but to keep working – _ugh!_ Why did he even come down here? There’s so much left to do, and he’s just…

He’s just…

>             [707 has entered the chatroom]
> 
>             707: alkgj;aelj
> 
>             Jaehee Kang: Seven, hello.
> 
>             707: @tlj3oj3$
> 
>             707: ;3piu9jqt’ae’of
> 
>             707: (Utp9iotjkj
> 
>             707: sdafsdgsfd
> 
>             [MC]: 8h;aw4ietej

Ah. Good. You’re alive. _She’s only been out of the apartment for twenty-nine minutes and twelve seconds._ Well, sure. But. A lot can happen in that time, right?

His relief fades as Jaehee asks for an update and there’s nothing new for him to offer. Right. He needs to get working. He needs to focus. And make sure no one tampers with the apartment in your absence.

Seven straightens up and heads back towards the monitoring area, staring at the phone in his hand.

>             707: Sorry, [MC] T_T
> 
>             [MC]: I guess you’re still caught up with the agency T_T Cheer up!

Sticking his head around the corner, Seven checks for signs of Vanderwood, but the room is empty.

>             707: T_T
> 
>             707: I will!
> 
>             707: I’ll work harder
> 
>             707: just for you, [MC]!

Finally, he reaches the monitors with the CCTV feed. He skips through the last ten minutes of footage as he chats. Looks like you still haven’t come home.

>             707: You seemed to be going to out earlier…
> 
>             [MC]: Ya!
> 
>             [MC]: It turns out Rika… didn’t have a lot of toilet paper;;;;
> 
>             [MC]: And there’s a few other things I wanted on hand for while I’m working on the party
> 
>             [MC]: I’m walking back now…
> 
>             [MC]: I got some PhD Pepper too in case you can visit!
> 
>             [MC]: NO HBC though sorry >_<

Seven glances as the two full boxes stacked to one side of the monitor array and smiles. You really don’t need to worry about that part.

>             707: I’m touched u thought of me lol
> 
>             707: And I do want to go…

He could fit several of those boxes in his car, along with all his basic work equipment. It wouldn’t be difficult. An hour, tops, to pack everything up and go to see you.

>             707: I want to go to [MC] and protect her myself!
> 
>             707: Can’t believe there’s nothing I can do…!!!
> 
>             [MC]: It’d be so great if you could come!
> 
>             Jaehee Kang: Unfortunately, Seven says he is busy… what can you do.
> 
>             707: Ya…
> 
>             707: If I average out how often I’ve been checking the CCTV…
> 
>             707: It’s probably
> 
>             707: every 2.35 seconds…
> 
>             707 >.<
> 
>             707: it should be enough
> 
>             707: but I keep wanting to look
> 
>             707: more
> 
>             707: …
> 
>             [MC]: I knew it!
> 
>             [MC]: I really felt like you were looking every 2.35 seconds!
> 
>             [MC]: I felt so much safer!
> 
>             Jaehee Kang: Communicating through CCTV?
> 
>             Jaehee Kang: You two have an unusual connection.

He looks over at the half-finished robot dog on his desk. If only he could finish that and send it to you.

He sends you the same photo he sent Yoosung. It might make you smile. At least then his efforts would have served **some** purpose.

Your reaction is more than he could have hoped for. Both you and Jaehee shower his prototype with compliments. He catches himself bathing in it a little too much though, and feels he needs to cut it short.

>             707: but even if I do things like this…
> 
>             707: it won’t help [MC]
> 
>             Jaehee Kang: Yup.
> 
>             707: Why did I even… make this
> 
>             Jaehee Kang: Because sometimes you simply cannot work.
> 
>             707: …
> 
>             [MC]: Maybe you should take a walk? It might help clear your head~!

Seven agrees to at least take a short break. Maybe then his mind will settle into something resembling normal. For him, anyway.

>             [MC]: I’ll be waiting for you when you get back! Cheer up!
> 
>             707: Yup!
> 
>             707: I’ll be keeping an eye out for you even while I’m taking a break
> 
>             707: so don’t worry!
> 
>             Jaehee Kang: …is that really taking a break though?
> 
>             707: It is.
> 
>             707: See u later!

-ooOoo-

When you do arrive home, you’re on the phone with someone. You pause at Rika’s door, continuing the conversation rather than going inside. Do you not remember the door code? Maybe you’ve got it on your phone and you can’t check it until whoever it is hangs up.

You’re laughing. Seven scoots closer to the monitor, and tries to make out what you’re saying. You’re swaying a lot, though, so it’s difficult to catch more than a few words at a time.

_\- they’re cool… no… maybe cat ears… kind of you… no, that’s… it’s okay…_

You look directly at the CCTV camera.

_Seven is looking out for me._

That smile, again. Why does it feel like you’re looking directly at him?

_Okay. I will. Bye, Jumin._

You take the phone away from your ear, and he watches you flick through something on your screen, after which you slowly enter the apartment code into the keypad. It’s not surprising you haven’t learned it yet, really. Rika picked a lengthy number. Seven’s never been able to determine whether the number held any special significance.

He’s memorised it, of course.

On the monitor, he sees the apartment door shut behind you. He’s alone again. Staring at the empty hallway. It does feel a little better, though, knowing that you’re there somewhere. Behind the door.

Swishing the last few drops of liquid around the bottom of a nearly-empty can of PhD Pepper, his eyebrows draw together. Jumin. _He called her, too?_ Seven tries to recall the details of his conversation from earlier that morning. All Jumin really talked about was the security guards and. The other thing. That cryptic comment about everyone having a –

“Seven? Hello?”

Your voice… he looks down. Your photo is on his phone’s screen again. He brings it to his ear, looking around the room cautiously.

“Time! Shhh.” He leans back in his chair to stare into the corners of the room. No sign of any looming, caped figures. “Good! We’re safe! I’m free~ Okay, I can talk. What’ up?”

 “I… don’t know? You’re the one who called me.”

A-again?! Seven glances guilty up at the CCTV screen. Did he start to dial as soon as you entered the house? He doesn’t remember doing it at all…

“Hmmm… Oh! Yeah! I called! Why did I call?” He stalls for time. _What would I need to ask her right now? THINK!_

His mind won’t play along. Before, it felt so chaotic, brimming with conflicting ideas. Now his brain is content to offer him not even the single, smallest thought. _Ugh. Well. Just keep talking._  “Hmm… I don’t remember… Then, uh. What’s the most natural thing to say right now?”

 “Well, I guess you could say…” That smile. He can hear _that smile_ in your voice. “You could say: ‘I was just thinking about you?’ So, if that’s the case - thank you for calling.”

“Oh~~~ Oh! You got me there.” You’re not wrong. He can’t think about anything other than you, listening to your voice like this. The robot dog, the agency work, the hacker… all morning he’s been unable to think about any of these for more than a few minutes before his brain switches tracks, throws some new distraction at him. But talking to you, now. It’s just the voice, that faint hint of your breath, the muffled sounds of you moving around the apartment. There’s no room for anything else.

It feels amazing.

“I see… uhm… so, thank you. Thank you too.” Seven stands up, and looks around the room again. “I’ll say thanks since you said thanks.” He shrugs off his hoodie and drapes it over his computer chair, tangling his headphones in it in the process. “Uhm… ugh!” He yanks at the cables trapped under the hoodie. “I definitely called to say something, but I forgot.” He’s still stuck, trapped by the headphone cable. In fact, now it seems to be twisted up even more?! “Still, uh. Thanks for thanking me.” One final tug, and the hoodie and his headphone cable both fall to the ground. He squats down and huffs, glaring. _Wait. What._ “What the hell am I saying!?”

He gives up, takes his headphones off, and dumps them and the hoodie next to his keyboard. _Let’s sort that out later._

You haven’t said anything.

Seven glances back up to the CCTV, staring at the apartment door. “I wish there were a camera in that room…” An image of you comes to mind. But not you on the CCTV. The you he saw, earlier. The you that -

“Oh!” Your voice rises a little higher than before. “Well –“

“Uh! Never mind! Forget that! I was just… I’m just wondering what you’re up to.”

You chat with him a little about your earlier walk, the things you bought from the store. He hears you putting them away, one by one. Eventually your voice grows steadier, and the background noise of objects being moved around the apartment ceases.

Just then, movement on the CCTV catches his eye.

“Hmmm? Wait…I see something on the screen… Ewwww~! A bug must have crawled on the camera. The stomach looks disgusting. Yuck!!”

You laugh. “Well, I’m at my laptop now anyway…why don’t you switch to my webcam again?”

_Again._

_She knows._

“Oh well uh… that seems a little… it’s not really necessary!”

…

And yet, five minutes later, you’ve convinced him. You might not be Rika, but you have your own playful brand of persuasiveness. So, here he is, watching you through the webcam. Again.

You’ve unpinned your hair, but otherwise wearing what you were when you went out before. Looking at you, his eyes linger a second longer on your lips than he feels is strictly professional. He clears his throat. “Hello?” You wave, and he finds himself giving you a little wave back before he realises what he’s doing. “Oh wait! Wait!” Finally, an idea. “Let’s play rock, paper scissors!”

You grin and nod. Together, you chant: “One... two… three…rock, paper, scissors!”

Seven raises one hand, palm out to the screen. Unseeing, you do the same. He giggles.

“High five! I feel like we get each other! A high five feels better than a boring rock paper scissors, am I right? I feel so good oh yeah~!” He grins as you turn your gesture into a thumbs up. “Haha, isn’t it fun? Rock paper scissors over a webcam! You shouldn’t be prejudiced and think that you can only do it in person! At times, you need to freshen things up to work better!” So long as he keeps talking, he doesn’t have to think too hard about your face… your lips… “The more difficult your work is, the more you need time to let go and go cray cray!” He hums a little tune. “And I feel like the world is more fun when I let go with you! Lalalalalalalala~ I like you~~ You like me~~”

You sing the next lines of the song back to him. God, there goes his brain again. Watching your lips form the words “I like you” is making his fingers tingle. If only. If only you could do more than play around like this, separated by a screen. If he’d met you in another time, another place… “I wanna go somewhere with you~ But I can’t~ I can’t ever~”

“Oh, why not? I’d love to go somewhere with you!”

He shifts in his seat, taking a moment to clear his thoughts. If he gets any more carried away, he’ll tell you exactly where.

But this time he might even explain what it means.

No. Nope. Focus. Breathe. “God… acting loopy for a minute always helps my brain function again. Now, it’s time to concentrate. I played, so it’s time to focus on work.”

“Awwwwww~ I guess, although it feels like we only just started talking…” That lonely look in your eyes makes him want to cup your face in his hands and – _gah_. Talking to you over the webcam is a little dangerous. All the attraction he has for you combined with the confidence that it’s safe so long as you keep your distance like this… separated by the screen… it gets mixed up in other thoughts, when he can see your face like this. He tears his eyes away.

“I’m going to back out of your webcam okay? My maid might get the wrong idea!!”

You nod. “Sure. But, I don’t mind if you wanna check in from time to time, okay? Given what’s going on?” Now, what’s this expression your face is making? There’s a smirk that wasn’t there a minute ago. “I don’t mind you watching at all.”

That… that’s giving him way, way too many ideas.

“So! Logging out now! Make sure you keep your door locked, and be safe and have happy thoughts!” You give him another thumbs up, still wearing that faintly… something… expression. “Then, the Defender of Justice 707 will return to observing you, I mean, no, no, return to going after the hacker. Bye!”

He closes the connection to your webcam, and stares at the now empty window on his screen, chin resting on his hands.

Your smile… your lips… if Vanderwood weren’t here. He could just.

Instead, he turns back to the CCTV and his work, pushing down the coiled-up spring in his chest with every ounce of strength. He can’t think like this.

He can’t. Do anything.

Chewing at the already-savaged part of his lower lip, he brings up the data for the next part of his work for the agency, and stares fixedly at the figures, seeing nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My work is extremely hectic at the beginning and end of the year, but I hope to return to posting more frequently soon!
> 
> I'm so sorry I still haven't replied to some comments on the last chapter - I really appreciate it so much every time someone takes the time to react to my work, and I do want to acknowledge the encouragement it gives me every time one of you is so kind to this frazzled weirdo of a writer haha ٩(♡ε♡ )۶
> 
> As always I'll keep posting snippets and updates to @707mifrass on Twitter. I really need to update the fic links on my Tumblr, too... hahahahahahahahahahaha... ꒰⁎×﹏×⁎꒱՞༘✡
> 
> I hope you guys are having a really lovely 2017 so far φ(ﾟ ωﾟ//）♡


	22. Day five: afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung attempts to play matchmaker, while Seven just wants to scream into a pillow... and maybe a few other things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this chapter gets a little steamy in the middle, but, uh, it doesn't go too far... I might expand on it in a different fic, though ^^;

## Day five: afternoon

Glaring down at the phone in his hands, Seven rubs at his stiff neck, wincing at the greasy feeling of his skin. _I showered yesterday, right…? It **was** yesterday…?_

Yoosung’s responses to the robot dog photo Seven texted him earlier wait for a reply. Seven has been staring at them for at least five minutes.

> Yoosung ★: “OMG! I saw the chat where you posted this too! It really is so cute! :3”
> 
> Yoosung ★: “Seven… I had no idea you could be so romantic!”
> 
> Yoosung ★: “Are you going to give it to her soon???”

He starts to type out ‘lololol’ as a reply, but then leaves it unsent.

Instead he switches over to the Messenger app and –

> **RFA chatroom**
> 
> **2 active users: Yoosung** **★, [MC]**

This could be trouble.

 _What if he creeps her out, talking like there’s romance all of a sudden?_ Bad. Very bad.

Much quieter, much softer, another voice in his head whispers: _but what if she likes the idea?_

Impossible.

Worse: unforgiveable. It would be too cruel. You don’t deserve that.

_But if…?_

Impossible.

_But… if it did happen…_

>             **707 has entered the chatroom**

You **are** talking about him. But not about the dog. He flails for a minute, replying to questions with a flurry of alternate ‘yes’ and ‘no’s. Every line, he has to stop and re-write words, as if the phone’s predictive text function has as many crossed wires as his brain.

Why, why does his phone think it’s more likely for him to be typing ‘Abbas’ instead of ‘and’? _Maybe it’s getting confused over that Arabic keyboard I have installed…_

> **Yoosung** **★: I guess Seven’s the only one**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★:  who can protect [MC] right now…**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: He must feel a lot of pressure.**

Yoosung…

He should do something special for Yoosung soon.

If only he was here, Seven could tell him everything… well, _some_ things…

> **707: I’m just so nervous,**
> 
> **707: and feel worried**
> 
> **707: and wanna make gifts**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: Seven;; What’s up with you?**
> 
> **707: and I can’t focus**
> 
> **707: and I keep wanting to turn on the messenger**
> 
> **707: and see the CCTV just in case she’s at the hallway**
> 
> **707: and I want to call her!!!**
> 
> **707: Gahhh. I feel like I’m about to explode.**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: Seven;;;**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: Are you serious?**
> 
> **707: I’m going crazy.**

_I’m so serious I want to scream into my pillow for an hour. Into everyone’s pillows. For a hundred hours. A YEAR._

>            **707: YOOSUNG!**
> 
> **707: let me come over and scream into your pillow!!**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: …;;;**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: Well, it’s understandable you’re so worried;;;**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: Given your feelings for [MC]!**

_NO._

_NOOOOOOOOOO._

_YOOSUNG._

_WHY THIS._

He backpedals as best he can. He doesn’t seem to be convincing anyone.

> **707: Haha,**
> 
> **707: well, we’re just playing around;;**

Liar.

_I’m not… lying._

Then what is it that’s happening here, exactly?

_That’s different…_

It’s true, isn’t it?

_God, I really am… such a filthy liar._

You’re important to him. Stupidly important to him, given how short a time you’ve known each other.

Really, alongside everything else, that’s an excellent reason to keep his distance. Not that he really needed more. So many bad things could happen to you if he shows too much interest. If his boss ever found out about the RFA, about you…

And, what kind of person would try to start a relationship with someone when they’re in so much danger? Someone who they’ve barely even begun to know? Right now, he’s the person protecting you. You’ve had to put all your trust in him. And that can… do things to a person’s mind. Make them start to feel affection out of gratitude. A slightly gentler version of Stockholm Syndrome, but still, it would be easy to manipulate. He’s seen it before.

He won’t prey on your vulnerability like that.

> **707: Yeah. That sort of thing isn't for me. Lol**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: Seven…**
> 
> **707: I’m going to spend my whole life staring at the computer. lol**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: What;;;**
> 
> **Yoosung** **★: I don’t think that makes sense…**
> 
> **707: Yeah…**
> 
> **707: I don’t think I make sense either.**
> 
> **MC: It wouldn’t bother me at all, though!**
> 
> **MC: If there was a little romance in my life!**
> 
> **MC: I’m ready!** **☆ﾐ(o*** **･ω･)** **ﾉ**

_Is she…?_

Don’t even think about it.

 _This is my fault, isn’t it?_ You kept playing along with him, and now he’s getting dependant on your kindness. Using that warmth to fill the emptiness.

_I’m disgusting._

_I’ve been using her. My captive audience, locked up in a tower._

Watching her. Drinking up all her attention and encouragement and giving back nothing in return. Ogling her in that towel…

_I’m fucking disgusting._

His eyes sting. Dry. _Not even human enough to cry._

> **707: Should I throw the guard robot away?**

Just get rid of it all now. Stop it here.

And yet. He’s relieved when you and Yoosung rail against the idea. _Coward._

He leaves chat not long after – he can tell talking further is just going to hurt you. And him.

Not to mention, Vanderwood is glaring at him from the doorway across the room.

“You need something?” Seven is surprised at the evenness of his own voice.

“I’m doing a drop-off for the woefully small amount of work we’ve got to show for today. Contact’s an hour or so away. Next drop-off is two days from now – _we need to be finished by then, 707.”_

 _“_ Right…” Vanderwood’s frown deepens at Seven’s answer.

“…if you haven’t gotten the next encryption method worked out by the time I get back, I’ll set fire to your chip boxes.” Vanderwood exits before Seven has a chance to react.

When he hears the sound of the front door closing a minute later, Seven springs into action, muttering to himself under his breath.

“Non-perishable food… satellite connection… backup power…”

He ferries a variety of boxes to one of his cars, tucking everything away in the storage compartments and under seats. Not perfect, but good enough for now.

He pauses by his bedroom door, staring at the bed… through the bed.

No. _It’s safer to leave it here._ The only way he’d take those few precious items from the bunker would be if he didn’t think he’d ever be coming back.

And it hasn’t come to that. So far.

He could leave, now, though. Right now. Vanderwood won’t be back for at least two hours, probably  more. Seven could almost reach you in that time…

But that would be throwing his life away. The agency would track him down eventually, even with a head start. He’d have to give up on the RFA.

He can’t go to you.

Not yet.

Seven walks into the bedroom and throws himself down onto the bed, sighing. He closes his eyes and thinks about nothing. Just for a few moments.

Just a few minutes of peace… alone… before he goes back to work.

His mind drifts… and there’s your face, again. Your lips.

He guiltily indulges in picturing your mouth form the words he watched you speak to Jumin, when you were standing in the hallway outside the apartment. _Seven is looking out for me._

It wouldn’t be right if you formed some kind of bodyguard crush on a guy like him. But if he keeps it inside his own mind, does it really hurt anyone to imagine those lips a little longer? _I’m trash, but can’t I have just a little warmth? Even if I’m the thing that has to be burned?_

He can’t stop… there’s the words you spoke on the webcam, too… speaking just to him. The more he’s seen you talking, the more he wants to watch you speak, form sounds of... any kind. For example… ‘o’. You look so lovely saying ‘o’…

Heat is gathering in his cheeks, but this time he welcomes it, touching his fingertips against his neck and feeling the throb of his quickened pulse… imagining you... touching him there. Gliding your fingers down his neck, catching them in the collar of his shirt, pulling it down a little and then covering the exposed skin with your mouth –

_I’m alone right now._

This is the perfect time to let off some steam. Get these thoughts out. So he can get back to thinking about useful things again, instead.

_Yes… now’s my chance… to think useless thoughts…_

Thoughts like. Like…

… _would it feel even better if I was in front of the CCTV right now?_

Would it feel more intense if he was watching your door, live, knowing you were behind it?

 _Fuck._ He wipes a little drop of drool from the corner of his mouth. _What the hell is wrong with you?_

He’s alone right now.

And he wants…needs…

He’s moved to the nearest terminal and brought up the CCTV feed before he’s even thought through what he’s doing.

_Just a little… just let me have a little._

Picturing your face, imagining your voice, he unbuttons his fly one-handed as he pans the camera as directly at your door as it will go.

_The webcam… would be a breach of trust… but this…_

The webcam. He remembers your soft skin, the beads of moisture covering the parts of you he could see above the towel. Imagines gently placing his hands either side of your waist, lowering you to the couch beside the laptop. Pressing his body into yours, the towel the only thing between the two of you.

Wrapping his fingers around the loose edge of the towel in his mind, and around something entirely different in reality, he stares desperately at your door and wishes, hating himself for it, that you’d come out right now.

“F-fuck…” he breathes, arching up into his own hand, your hand, no, your lips -

Seven’s pocket vibrates. “Fuck…” he says again, for an entirely different reason.

Vanderwood?

No.

 “Yo,” you say, the shape of the word sending a guilty little tingle though his body and especially in his -

“Hello,” he manages to cough out, wiping his free hand against his jeans and then burying his face in it. _Calm down. Concentrate. Breathe. She needs you._

“So…” You sound more timid than usual. “I just thought… maybe Yoosung and I pushed you a little too hard before. I’m, uh… I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

 _You have **no** idea just how uncomfortable. _He clears his throat. “Ya, well…I’m meditating right now. I need to do it for a couple more minutes. Do you want to join me?” No, he has to do this right now, or his brain… or something… is going to explode for real. “No, let’s just do it.”

He leads you through a strange series of visualisations, further and further away from the original point of your call. Anything to calm himself down. Anything to avoid talking about that last chat.

Once he feels his heart rate approaching something normal, and before you have a chance to take the conversation back in an uncomfortable direction, he changes the subject again. Seven talks you through a series of places to check throughout the house, and warning signs should any stranger come to your door. What to do if the fire alarm sounds to ensure you aren’t walking into a trap instead. What to take with you in an emergency. He hears you moving around the apartment to check on the few things as he describes them.

“Well, that should be everything you can do right now. If you get bored, come out to the hallway and wave to the camera for me.” _Ugh. Why, when you were just…_ The words leave a yet another new, exciting flavour of guilt in his mouth, but you laugh and say you will. _Keep your cool, idiot._ “Good. It makes me less worried, when I see you. You won’t see me, but I’ll wave to you too, okay?”

“I wish I could see you all the time…” He recognises the lonely feeling underneath your words. It aches, even as it sends another thrill through his body. If you could see him right now...

“Hey. It’s okay, [MC]. I’ll sort all this out, I promise. And I’ll talk to you when I can, okay?” His voice lowers, as he wishes he could do more, wishes he could go now. “Even if you can’t see me… remember that you’re never alone.”

You hum slightly in response. “When I hear your voice, I can kinda pretend you’re here. It feels a little better… I’m sorry to be such a pain, though. I know you have a lot to do.”

“That’s... it’s okay. I really shouldn’t be on the phone so much, but, well. Call me any time, and I’ll do my best to answer when I can, all right? I might not be able to answer every time but… I’ll be thinking about you. I wish I could do more, I really, really do. But, you are right… I should really get back to work.”

Work.

Yeah.

He has no time for useless thoughts. He has to finish his work, tonight. Then, he can protect you properly.

“I’ll finish everything, [MC]! Just wait a little longer! Then I’ll be able to do a lot more for you! But even now, I’m always looking out for you, okay? Stay safe! Adios!”

He rests the phone back onto the desk before him, looks at your-still closed door on his screen, and tries, despite himself, not to think anything useless.


	23. Day five - evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As summarised on my Twitter:
> 
> 7: I'm dumb and bad  
> YS: ya  
> YS: mostly just dumb tho  
> 7: I'M EXTREMELY BAD  
> YS: how about u stop being bad  
> 7: ???

## Day Five - evening

Guilt is a tricky thing. A little can motivate you to do better. Too much, and you’re unable to function.

Seven has discovered a third kind of guilt. The kind so overwhelming and so potent that it leaves no room for him inside his own body. He sees himself compiling code, testing vulnerabilities, scraping at the insides of a chip bag for the remaining crumbs. He notes, clinically, the slow, hollow throb of the headache that nibbles at back of his skull, sinking its fangs deeper into his brain with every beat.

It isn’t so bad, really. Almost like dying.

_Throb. Throb. Throb._

The headache forces him to maintain some weak connection to the outside world. Without a window, the sensations are limited to the background hum of his myriad of machines, the inevitably cranky sounds of Vanderwood’s return to the bunker, and the tapping of his own feet against the leg of his desk.

The only real sense that time is passing is the slow cooling of the new stack of recently baked fish buns Vanderwood dumped by Seven’s keyboard some time earlier. The steam dissipates lazily, rising from  the plate and slowly curling into nothingness. Seven leaves them untouched.

He works, as everything around him grows colder.

-ooOoo-

A missed call blinks balefully at Seven just out of the corner of his eye.

He heard it, of course. But. It was you.

And he really can’t face you right now.

He presses his fingers against his body, under his armpits, in an attempt to warm them up. The tips are like ice. Even through the fabric of his shirt he winces at the sudden sting. Instead, he reaches out to one of the fish buns, but they too have cooled and hardened. Sighing, he takes the plate to the kitchen, trying not to make eye contact with himself in the microwave door as he opens it.

…

The warmth of the fish buns on his fingers makes the effort worth it. He eats, more out of a desire for heat than hunger, ignoring the crumbs that fall into his keyboard. 

Opening the messenger, he sees the missed conversations go back a lot further than usual. _Busy day, or…?_

> **707: Oh my god.**
> 
> **707: It’s midnight already T_T**
> 
> **707: How can the day pass by so meaninglessly!**

No wonder it has grown so cold…

Frustrating. He did his best to work solidly this afternoon, and yet. He’s still not finished. You’re still in danger. He hasn’t even touched the RFA server since this morning.

He skims through the messages. So much happened while he was busy.

> **707: I’m surprised to see that**
> 
> **707: Yoosung understands me**
> 
> **707: I’m thankful,**
> 
> **707: but if you think about it,**
> 
> **707: Yoosung is not like me…**
> 
> **707: Thank you for thinking about me, but**
> 
> **707: you shouldn’t.**
> 
> **707: I don’t want to complicate things further.**
> 
> **707: 707 is supposed to just laugh things off and make fun of everything.**
> 
> **707: That’s me!** **☆**
> 
> **707: …**
> 
> **707: With God deep inside my heart!**
> 
> **707: I am**
> 
> **707: SEVEN**
> 
> **707: ZERO**
> 
> **707: SEVEN!!**
> 
> **707: ..!!**

It’s comforting, posting into the void like this. Talking to everyone, without the pressure of seeing an immediate response. Leaving messages for you to find, like…

…breadcrumbs…

…do I selfishly want her… to find me…?

> **707: I can’t ever desire or have…**
> 
> **707: what I don’t deserve.**

He stares blankly at the phone in his hands, eyes stinging.

> **707: I…**
> 
> **707: Have a memory card that can’t save anything.**
> 
> **707: When I turn off the engine,**
> 
> **707: I have to… give everything up…**

Is any other future than even possible?

> **707: I don’t even know what I’m like anymore.**
> 
> **707: I feel like… even I will forget who I was**

If you did find him out… learn all his secrets… what on earth could even come of it?

What on earth…

While he remains in this world… it’s surely not possible.

> **707: I feel so weird that**
> 
> **707: I wanna travel to the moon!**
> 
> **707: Would you come with me, [MC]?**
> 
> **707: I’d love that…**
> 
> **707: I’d love to go with you.**

If only you could go together. If only he was able to give himself permission to even try.

“Ugh!” The red bean filling of one of the reheated fish buns burns his fingers. He drops it back on the plate and sticks his fingers into his mouth, which doesn’t stop the pain at all.

> **707: I really have to get myself together**
> 
> **707: and start working for real tomorrow**
> 
> **707: As long as my engine is on…**
> 
> **707: I will protect you**

-ooOoo-

He’s been running his burned fingers under the cold water of the kitchen tap for at least fifteen minutes when his phone buzzes gently with a “LOLOL~!”

> **Yoosung** ★: “Seven…   I just saw your messages. I’m worried about you T_T“

Switching off the stream of water, Seven stares at the message for a minute. There’s a hollow ache in his chest.

It’s been so long since they last talked. When was the last time…? His fingers dart across the screen before he’s even finished the thought.

Yoosung answers on the first ring.

“Seven!” Yoosung’s voice is ecstatic. “You called!”

“Hey, Yoosung…”

“Seven…” The enthusiasm in Yoosung’s voice turns to concern. “You sound even worse than I thought. What’s going on?“ Is it the hacker thing? This isn’t like you…”

Seven sighs and scuffs a shoe against the base of the kitchen bench. “I don’t even know what I’m like… how could you…?”

 “What…? Seven… I don’t know what to say when you’re like this.”

“Yoosung, you’re my canary.”

“Your _what._ “

“If you hate me, then I know the mine is poisonous.”

“Seven! Why would I hate you? What – what poison?!”

Seven rubs at his eyes under his glasses with one damp hand. “You’re right… why am I saying this? All I’m doing is shortening the time I have -”

Yoosung cuts him off. “Seven, now it just sounds like you’re dying.” Half a second passes. “Wait… oh no…you aren’t…???”

“I’m not dying, haha. I wish I could explain more… but I can’t. Not ever.”

 “Seven!” Yoosung’s voice shifts, and Seven can practically _hear_ the pout. “Did you just call me to make me worry even more? Because I’m not going to be able to sleep if you keep acting like this.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry Yoosung… I don’t know what’s going on with me… I should go.”

But he doesn’t hang up, and neither does Yoosung. The silence expands, connects them. And in that space, something in Seven can’t keep itself from escaping his lips any longer.

“Do…do you think I’m using her?”

“U-using…? You mean, [MC]? But why? Why would you think – you haven’t done anything to her?”

“A lot of things. In my head.”

“U-um… I’m not sure I -”

“God, that sounds really bad. I mean. I guess it is.” Seven closes his eyes. “Yoosung. Do you know the key factor that separates a successful space mission from an unsuccessful one?”

“Oh, uhm.” Yoosung drags out the uhm as long as he can while he thinks. “The engineering of the space shuttle?”

“That’s part of it. I’m working hard on keeping the RFA space shuttle safe and sound, but the most important thing is. The most important thing...” Seven feels his voice rattle harshly in his throat. “The most important, absolutely critical thing, is... that everyone is able to come home again from the mission.” He lets that sink in for a minute. “You’re all relying on me. And she’s… but I can’t. I’m abusing this kindness… I’m letting her give and give and I’m. Useless.”

“She likes you.” Yoosung is quiet, but his voice is steely. “If you understand that, then why-”

 “She’s kind, Yoosung. Like you. Kind, normal people… I just use all of them. I don’t deserve –“

“SEVEN!” Seven nearly drops the phone at Yoosung’s shout. “I still don’t understand what’s going on, but, shut up for a second.” Yoosung clears his throat. “I mean… sorry. But I’m going to go crazy watching you two. If it were anyone other than you, Seven… if it’d felt like she’d think about me like that…but, it _is_ you. And… I’m going to be so angry at you if you keep being so weird! Weird-weird, I mean. Not, you-weird.”

Seven says nothing.

“Seven… you like her, don’t you?”

“You don’t know what you’re asking me…”

“No! I do know! And it’s a very simple question!“

“Yoosung…  I’ve been trained to make people do what I want. I think deep down… I think I’ve been manipulating her. Feeding off that attention… even though I know I can’t give her anything back…”

“You aren’t making her do anything. She’s talking to you because she wants to.” Yoosung waits for a reply, but Seven is silent once again. “Why not think about [MC] a little more and decide what to do after you’ve slept on it?”

 “Oh… but  I can’t stop thinking about her though, and that’s not good… haha.” He pauses, his brain catching up with his words. “Look at me, I’m saying gibberish again. I’m, really going to go now. Be a good boy, Yoosung.”

“Hey –“

Seven hangs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp.
> 
> That was a lot of wallowing.
> 
> But Yoosung's words have given Seven some more things to think about... a tiny bit of hope.
> 
> The next chapter... is going to be a sweet one again, at last;;;


	24. Day six - early morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung's words are having even more of an effect on Seven that even Yoosung could have imagined.
> 
> Could he... actually dare to hope...?
> 
> All he needs to do is catch the hacker, finish his work. And then... maybe...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday for the 11th, sad red boy! I did rush to try and complete this before the end of the day here, and failed T_T But at least it's still the 11th in some countries...
> 
> Also, sidenote, the UPS Seven is replacing in this chapter is an Uninterruptable Power Supply, not uh... a postal service... or anything... just in case I confuse anyone;;

## Day six - early morning

_You like her, don’t you?_

In the darkness, like this…

_You like her._

In the darkness, surrounded by stars.

_You…_

In the darkness. He can be honest.

“I… really do…” The whisper is light, soft. It doesn’t stand a chance against the sound whirring fans of the machines all around him. And they themselves are outdone by the roar of the server room’s air conditioning unit. 

But the words weigh heavily on his tongue.

The stars – each one, a blinking LED on one of his array of devices – sparkle around him. Pinpoints of light. Data. So much data. So much energy. The beating, blinking heart of his bunker.

Here… there are only two states. On, and off. Zero, and one. Alive, or –

Your first date would be a drive to somewhere new. He’d check it carefully via satellite surveillance footage first, of course. But. It would be somewhere where every molecule of air would feel make him feel far from home. Somewhere where the light of civilisation couldn’t find him.

Seven carefully finishes switching out the faulty UPS unit, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Even with all this cooling, standing this close to his blade server is a toasty business.

He could do this with his eyes closed. This room, these pieces of equipment are an extension of himself. Every blinking light, another tiny reminder that he’s still alive.

His mind drifts back to the date planning.

He’d bring snacks. A blanket. And a telescope.

_Does she have a favourite star…?_

As he ponders, Yoosung’s words play over and over in his head. As they have for hours.

Maybe. Just maybe. This could work.

The agency could never know. But it’s not like this would be the first secret he has kept from them.

Not even close.

And if he’s good enough at his job – maybe his time with the RFA, with you – could be very long indeed.

If he can just catch this hacker, finish his work, then maybe –

Vanderwood’s voice cuts through his musings. “707! Have you finished fixing the –  what the hell? Are you even in here?”

“Yeah. I’m here.” Seven’s response is flat. _Go away._

Vanderwood flips on the lights. “You really _are_ a cockroach, crouching in the dark like this. _Again._ How can you work with this expensive equipment when you can’t even see anything?” Vanderwood ducks under a hanging power board and closes the distance between them. “What if you damaged our work?”

“I could see just fine,” Seven responds, blinking in the sudden harsh light.

“So, what? You’re worried about the power bill? You know these servers chew through electricity way more than a lightbulb ever would. And besides, the agency covers this stuff, you know that.”

“I concentrate better like this.” Seven keeps his back to Vanderwood, and fiddles with the UPS’ mounting.

“So? Are you done?”

“Give me ten more minutes. I’m nearly done. Hit the lights on your way out.”

Vanderwood snorts, turns, and nearly walks face-first into the dangling power board he dodged earlier. “When all this is over, you really need to re-think how you manage this room.” The agent stalks back towards the main computer room, glowering, but one gloved hand deigns to switch off the light on their way out.

Warm, comforting darkness returns. And the sea of lights…

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

> **[MC]: “I hope you’re asleep! But, if you aren’t, I hope you’re enjoying the full moon~”**
> 
> **[MC]: “I took a picture in case you can’t see it!”**

The photo you send Seven is of a golden, large moon hanging in the sky near the horizon.

> [ **MC]: “It’s smaller now, but still really lovely <3”**

Seven looks at the glimmering lights surrounding him. Would you find this beautiful, too? He’d send you a photo, but if the agency ever found out…

He calls you, instead.

“Hello? I’m glad you texted! Are you still looking at the sky?”

“Uh-huh!”

“I’m looking at my own stars, too. But, I’ll share them with you! Equal halves.” He keeps his voice soft, in case Vanderwood is still nearby. “Star one: me one. Star two: you two.”

“Star three, you three!”

 “Huh?” He glides his finger along the dust on the faulty UPS box, smiling. “I’m the third?”

Your reply is not what he expected. “You can have every number. I want to give them all to you, Seven.”

“You…” Maybe you really **are** a robot programmed to trap him… “I’m so touched… I-I mean, how… how can you give me stars? Don’t be weird. I feel like you’re starting to lose it since it’s so late. Ju-just go to bed!”

“I’m not tired though… and you’re still awake, too!”

“Gahhhhhh.” His attempt to sound frustrated is foiled by the chuckle he finishes with. “Fine. You win! I give up! So tell me: what do you think about, when you look at the night sky?”

“Well…” You lower your voice. “Lately, when I look at the stars, all I can think about is…”

“…?”

“I think about you.”

“[MC]… I…” He clears his throat. “When this is all over… maybe-arrrgh!”

“What is it?!”

“I’m getting signals that someone is trying to tap this call. Who’d dare… I need to go catch this person. We haven’t been tapped yet, so don’t worry.” He pushes the faulty UPS underneath a desk and casts his eye over the room one last time. “I hope cupcake-tasting stars fill your dreams! Bye!”

He grimaces briefly as he pushes his phone back into his jeans pocket. _I didn’t get to say it…_

But. There’s time. He can get the work done. Catch the hacker. Catch this phone tapper. And then, and then…

Just one last push. One last sleepless night, and everything will be solved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven: "Eeyup. Things are gonna work out, and I'm definitely not going to change my mind about giving [MC] a chance now. Time to take one giant swig of PhD Pepper and check the messenger to make sure there's been no further contact from the hack-
> 
> FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU"
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long to publish. I haven't had as many chances to write lately, and when I have, I've been working on three pieces for a Mystic Messenger zine being published in July! So, look forward to those :3 AO3 T&C don't allow linking to paid works but you'll definitely find the links on my Twitter and Tumblr when it is released (links to my sites in my profile page).
> 
> I'm still absolutely finishing this story, and hopefully once my zine pieces are 100% polished I'll be able to post here a little more frequently again. Thank you so much for the nice comments I received while I was away, I did read them all! One of them even made me cry. You guys are beautiful T_T I wanna give you all the best words I can give.


	25. Day six - morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a Vanderwood-enforced break, Seven encounters a duck, a friend, and a new, devastating sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, there’s a sort of call back to [the separate fic series I’ve written about Seven and Tom](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8517691/chapters/19523422), but you don’t need to have read it to still enjoy the chapter ^^
> 
> I loved this phonecall so much, hehe. I’m glad we finally reached this point in the story. To me, this is the first phonecall where he’s this transparent about wanting his relationship with [MC] to be different than it is with other people… even if it frustrates him ^^;;
> 
> This is set right after the CG with Vanderwood that happens during the morning of Day 6.

## Day six - morning

_I’m salty…_

Seven swipes the back of his right arm across his forehead, and flicks off the beads of sweat gathered there. His temperature is rapidly climbing, despite the cold morning. But he can’t slow down.

If he stops, his brain will just start up again.

Normally, his tasks from the agency are a mix of field and hacking work. It’s a pain, but thanks to that, he’s never really had to put much effort into maintaining his fitness. His jogging is steady, even. Just fast enough that the noise of his footsteps, breathing and heartbeat drown out everything else.

Being outside now, seeing the world around him lit up by the rays of the sun… he can’t help but feel like a trespasser. Most of his field work occurs during the nighttime. His just-because drives tended to happen at night, too. Music on, accelerator down, only ghosts and shift workers sharing the sky with him. Far fewer eyes.

_Eyes._

_Mint… eyes…_

It’s thanks to that mysterious email Jaehee and Zen received that he’s out here now.

He’d maintained a weak facade of working for the agency, but in reality, he’d spent most of the morning trying to dig up more information about that strange message. He just can’t shake the feeling that the message is connected with everything else that has been happening to the RFA. With just a little more time, he could probably…

_Just run. Not now. Don’t think about it now._

Vanderwood’s earlier words ring in his ears. “We have to be alive first! No, Agent 707?”

_If the agency wipes me from the face of the earth, then I’ll never…_

He can practically smell Vanderwood’s cigarettes as he replays the conversation over in his mind. “You have to finish this by today. If you don’t, I’ll report to the boss about RFA. Then they might put you in some mental facility. You’ll never get to see that girl trapped inside the apartment.”

Seven coughs. Has the smoke gotten into his hair? He runs a sweaty hand through it and squints up at the sky. Overhead, clouds are forming.

Vanderwood had practically shoved Seven out the door - he hadn’t even had time to change out of his jeans into something more comfortable for running. _But Ms Vanderwood’s taser looked like it wasn’t going to wait._

“Get yourself together, agent. Move. You’ve been in here wrapped up in your own little fantasies long enough. Go take in some fresh air. Remember that you’re alive. You can’t help them if you’re not. Clear your head. Wake your body. And pick up some paper towels. Got it?”

The location of his current base was a great compromise between isolation and convenience. It wouldn’t take more than forty five minutes to jog to the nearest convenience store and back.

_Forty five minutes that he could have been tracing the emails…_

He exhales heavily and glances at the sky again.

It’s absolutely going to rain.

 _Get out into the real world._ Sure. Great idea. The world wants to wash him away into nothing, too. Extract the parasite. Clean the wound.

But he takes a deep breath in and pushes up the glasses that had been slowly making their way down his nose as he jogged. No. Maybe the heavens will be merciful, and instead, wipe his own thoughts clean.

_But is there ever going to be a storm large enough, that it could actually wash away all my sins?_

Seven draws level with a small freshwater lake close to the edge of the road. During the summer, it had reduced greatly in size, but now it was restoring itself to its former glory. Close to the shore, he spies a lone figure with an iridescent green swoop of colour across its face.

Slowing, Seven moves closer to get a better look at the bird. _Ah._ A [ male baikal teal ](https://www.google.com.au/search?q=baikal+teal+bird&rlz=1C1CHBF_en-GBAU733AU733&tbm=isch&source=lnms&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjNtf3yi6nWAhXCfLwKHZ1vDKsQ_AUICigB&biw=1920&bih=950&dpr=1) . He’s never had many opportunities to see the local bird life, but the bright green of its face makes it easy to identify. Just one of the many pieces of information in his mind that he is ready to access at any given moment.

You never know when you might need to identify a duck. And with god as his witness, when that day comes: he’ll be ready.

It doesn’t seem like there’s any other ducks nearby.

“Are you a loner, little guy?”

The duck eyes him impassively.

“It’s gonna rain soon. I guess that’d be fine with you though, huh?”

The duck, with no visible movement above water, moves effortlessly further away matched to Seven’s approach. _So. Our relationship ends at about five metres._

“Finding any food? I’d help you out, but, uh...” Seven checks his jeans pockets. “It’s pretty much just honey butter chip crumbs in here.”

The duck maintains its silence.

“Well. Nice talking to you, king-of-the-lake!” Seven continues on his way, and reaches the convenience store not long afterwards.A familiar face is there to greet him.

“Lu-Lu! I missed you, buddy!”

“Hello~ ❤ Timing~! Getting to see my friendly neighbourhood Tom first thing in the morning is good timing~!” Seven’s face lights up with genuine pleasure. Tom doesn’t normally work the morning shifts… _maybe it’s the weekend._ It’s hard to notice the passage of the days in his bunker.

The young man behind the convenience store counter winks and gives him a thumbs up. “You know I’m always looking out for you, Lu!” He vanishes briefly to the room behind the cash register and returns with a full box of limited edition **PhD Pepper:** **☆** **Clear** **☆** and gently places it onto the counter as if it were a box of feathers. “I’ve been saving this box for you, you know!”

“Oh… I’m really sorry, Tom…” Seven rubs at the sweaty mess his hair has become. “I didn’t drive today - I can’t take these.”

Tom shifts the box to the floor in what looks like one smooth, impossibly effortless movement. “Ah, that’s okay! So, what do you need? Snack stuff? Car stuff?”

Seven stares at the cardboard cut-out mascot character sitting next to the cash register. It’s a bear, but with truck wheels instead of feet, and it has a jet pack strapped to its back. “Tom!” Seven turns and looks the tall convenience store worker in the eye. “When did you guys hire such a powerful bear?”

“Hahaha - do you like her? She’s my latest design!” Tom taps at the enamel badge he’s wearing over his work clothes: a tiny replica of the cardboard cut-out on the counter.

“I’d love to invite her to a party…” Seven says, half to himself, staring at the cartoon smoke curling out of the bear’s jet-pack engines.

“Ooh! Well! Give me another month! I’m working on the costume right now, and -”

They chat for another minute or two, as Seven’s brain slips cleanly into his current public persona. On one level, he’s enjoying the conversation with his one real friend in the neighbourhood. On another level, he’s thinking of emails, server pathways, and traces of hackers.

And underneath it all, his mind returns again and again to cameras… and a door… and a voice…

Tom elaborates on his future plans with great enthusiasm. “Then we’ll wheel them all out! With tons of incense tied to their arms! Maybe even sparklers! Would you say that’s a good idea?”

Seven’s autopilot mode and the rest of his brain quickly compare notes, and wind up shrugging at each other.

He grabs one of Tom’s large, dependable hands in his own. “Tom. You’re a genius.”

Tom’s eyes glisten. “My friend. I knew you’d understand!!”

Whatever Seven has just encouraged Tom to do, it can’t be worse than when he… _I really have to get back…_

Right. He’s seen the real world now.

Job: done.

Mind: cleared.

Tasers: avoided.

Time to head back.

“I, uh… hmmm.” _I should probably buy something._ “Anyway, I just gotta buy some…” his eyes dart towards the _On Sale!!!_ sign above the counter “...frozen corn.”

“Sure thing, Lu-lu! Lemme throw in a free sticker while you’re at it!”

Seven takes a bag of frozen corn from the small freezer section towards the back of the store, and pays for it in cash, like always. Tom presses a small, round sticker of a wheeled, jet-pack wearing bear into his hands with the receipt.

“The bear’s name is Stacey, by the way! You know, like from the Bible?”

Seven has long since stopped trying to understand what weird version of the holy book Tom possesses.  “Of course!! Stacey, from the Bible! Thanks, Tom! Say hi to your brother for me!”

“I will! Ted will be so happy when he hears you came by!”

Leaving the store behind, slightly poorer and lugging a plastic bag containing a single packet of frozen corn, Seven begins the journey back to the bunker. _Did Vanderwood really expect this would get me to concentrate on my work again? Really?_

But. If he’s honest… he does feel a little calmer.

It’s still possible that he could finish his work today. And then he can get back to work finding the RFA hacker. And finishing the robot. And then… after that… maybe...

He pulls his phone out from his jeans pocket and dials your number. He’d visited the chat room earlier that morning to reassure everyone that his messages the previous night were meaningless… nothing to worry about… but you hadn’t been there. Probably, you’d been sleeping. He’d seen from the chat records that you’d stayed up late chatting to Zen until around 4am.

You don’t answer. This time, he’s prepared for your answering machine message, but listens to it all the way through anyway, just to hear your voice.

_She’s just sleeping… right?_

He increases his pace, his mind replaying a section of the chat log from your conversation with Zen.

 

> **Zen:** **Okay, then! I’m going to make myself just a little bedtime snack!**
> 
> **Zen: So I’ll log off now. I hope you sleep soon.**
> 
> **Zen: [MC]...**
> 
> **Zen: Dream of me!**
> 
> **[MC]: I think I’m going to dream about Seven…**
> 
> **Zen: Oh~**
> 
> **Zen: [MC], you’re really honest, haha.**
> 
> **Zen: Of course…**
> 
> **Zen: I hope you two can meet soon.**
> 
> **Zen: Then, bye!**

_  
Are you dreaming of me right now? Could I hear your voice now, if I dreamed…?_

You probably haven’t seen the photo he posted, yet. A photo Vanderwood took of him for a mission, not too long ago. It would be nice if you looked at it when you woke up… and smiled again.

If he looks like he’s losing it, everyone in the RFA will become frightened. Even if it’s just yet another lie, he has to keep the positive, energetic 707 as the only persona of his in the messenger.

That’s who everyone needs.

_I need to get back soon._

He picks up the pace even more, beginning to pant as he pushes his heart rate into the anaerobic zone. Sweat rolls down his face - _no. Not sweat…_

The clouds that had loomed overhead all morning finally release their cargo. It’s refreshing, but it makes jogging with glasses on a real pain. He finds shelter amongst a small copse of trees, and takes off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt.

There’s a faint quacking sound to his far left.

Seven turns, and sees the duck from earlier splashing around in a large, water-filled ditch along the side of the road.

“Hey king-of-the-lake! Did you get banished from your kingdom?”

The duck continues to fossick around the edges of the ditch, ignoring him.

Seven watches the duck for a minute, as the rain continues to fall all round them. Jumin’s flight should be leaving right about now… hopefully the weather at the airport isn’t too bad.

He glances down at the packet of frozen corn in the plastic bag currently resting at his feet.

“Hey! Ditch-king! Do you like corn?” Seven tears the packet open a little, and reaches inside, pulling out a chilled fist full of frozen corn. _Feels like the ice-chips all over again…_

He attempts to gently toss the corn in the duck’s direction, although instead of landing in a single spot it winds up forming a near-straight line of corn from his place under the trees to the edge of the duck’s ditch.

The ditch-king seems uninterested in corn. _Maybe he didn’t notice._

Seven hurls another handful, this time managing to land several pieces close to the duck’s foraging spot. “All right! An S-Rank throw from a genius of corn-tossing!”

This time, the duck acknowledges the corn with one beady eye. Then turns that eye to Seven. Then back to the corn. Finally, the duck makes a judgement call - and wades further down the water-filled ditch, away from Seven.

“M-mission failure…” Seven sighs, and leans back against the sturdiest tree, and looks back up at the sky. But then, the sound of your laugh comes to his mind from nowhere at all. And he smiles. _I want to hear that sound again, soon..._

The clouds seem to be thinning. The rain is still falling, but the drops are light and sparse, now. _Good enough._

As Seven returns to the road, his mind drifts back to your unanswered phone. He can’t do much with what he has with him, but he runs a couple 707-only functions in the messenger to check security.

Everything seems to be working. Good.

And then, your picture appears on his screen.

He answers quickly. “He-hello! I was a little nervous when you didn’t pick up. You had me worried there.”

He catches the faintest sound of you yawning - you must have turned your head away from the speaker as you did it - before you mumble a slightly croakier-sounding response than usual. The phone catches the sound of fabric moving against fabric - _bedsheets?_

But then, you sneeze, and he can’t help but let out a giggle. “Haha, so cute. I wanted to hear what your sneeze sounded like… God! This is so strange. I’m covered in cold rain, but I suddenly felt super hot just now! Amazing...”

“Wait, Seven?” Your voice is still riddled with sleep, but the curiosity seems to be cutting through the drowsiness. “Why are you covered in…?”

“Oh! It’s nothing~ I came outside to clear my head. But… your voice sounds a bit weird. Uhm… I’m just walking on the streets, but, actually, your voice… I keep wanting to hear it. I don’t know why… maybe your voice has a unique frequency. I want to test it out next time. Strange… I keep wanting to hear it…”

Yoosung’s words from the evening before echo voice in his head. _You like her..._

_...it’s not strange at all, to feel like this, hearing that voice, is it?_

“Hmmmmmm…” you respond, sleepily.

He barely avoids dropping the phone onto the concrete beneath his feet. _THAT WAS PRACTICALLY A MOAN._

“God… that sound too! That breathing sound!! Gahh… is this steam???” He takes his glasses off yet again to wipe them against his now-damp shirt, which does little to help. “You know, don’t make noises like that. It’s… really dangerous.”

God. Imagining you right now, in those bedsheets... making that noise… it’s too much.

_If I die on a mission, stranded somewhere isolated, or in the middle of a firefight… I’m going to take that ‘Hmmmmm’ with me. File it away, let that be the last thing I ever hear._

_If only._

You mumble a half-response, half-hmmm, which. Really. Is not helping. “What’s so dangerous about that…?”

His speech speeds up with his pulse. “Huh? Why is it dangerous? God! My face is burning up. Don’t… make noises like that to anyone. Things like ‘hmmm’.” Gaining even more speed, he continues. “If you are going to, do it only in front of me. If you do it in front of someone else… someone might kidnap you… I’d cry… they’d take you away… you’re… you’re too cute!!!”

At last, he’s able to find a dry enough part of his sleeve to clean his glasses with, although as soon as he puts them back on, they fog up again.

“Gah! Oh. Oh! I must sound like a creeper right now. Don’t worry. I know what I said but I wouldn’t do anything weird. Like recording your voice, for example! No! Bad example! I mean!” He takes a quick breath, stepping around a discarded tyre on the side of the road. “I wouldn’t keep a copy of your voice! What if you get involved in strange things because of me? If something happens and I get caught, and they find your voice file on my hard disc, they’ll target you. I’ll only save it inside my head! I have a really good memory.”

He forces himself to slow down. “Anyways… I don’t want anyone to get in danger because of me from now on…”

You answer lightly that you’ll take care of it, so he doesn’t need to worry.

“How can I not worry? A hacker might be going after you right now… and there’s those emails. You can say that because you don’t know how dangerous hackers can be. Trust me… they can hurt you. Hurt you a lot. Good people like you have to stay in this world and do good things.” How on earth  do you say things like ‘I’ll take care of it,’ in such a situation? Maybe he’s been doing too good a job at putting your mind at ease. You stay silent, so he continues on. “You can’t get involved in bad incidents because of people like me… didn’t I tell you before? Hackers are like the cockroaches of the internet.

So don’t hang around with hackers. And even more so with secret agents.”

He looks towards the end of the road he’s now walking, his bunker now within view at last. “To you… a man with a good honest job... a normal background… might be better…”

_Better than being with me._

_But... why... does that thought hurt so much?_

_If I like her, then I should be happy giving her advice that I know is in her best interest._

_But when I picture her with a normal man… with a good, honest job… a safe, stable background…_

_When I picture her beside someone else..._

“Aaargh…! I think my head is overloaded. I keep saying weird things. And I kept thinking of your voice so I thought it’d be fine if I just listen to you for real, but I feel like that only made things worse. I need to hang up…”

That faceless, normal, man. That safe man. The man that isn’t him.

_One day, I’m going to have to give you up. I can’t keep considering these fantasies… they can’t exist in a world where you are safe._

_But. Not today._

“No…” _Until you are safe again. Let me be the one… to listen._  “Could you say goodbye for me, just once?”

Your  response is silken, and this time, absolutely awake. “Goodbye. Mmmhmmm…”

_THAT._

_THAT IS ONE HUNDRED PERCENT A MOAN._

“God… I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight. You did that on purpose, right? Ugh… I’ll call you again later.”

“You promise? I’ll think of some new sounds while I wait.”

“I...I’m gonna hang up for real now.” He wants to chastise you, but he can’t bring himself to do it when his head feels this dizzy. “I… I’m definitely hanging up. Right now. Bye.”

After passing his door’s security challenge in a daze, Seven drops his shopping bag on the kitchen counter and heads into the main computer room.

Behind him comes a noise that sounds eerily similar to what you would hear if someone punched a gloved fist into a half-full bag of partially defrosted corn.

“707! _WHERE ARE MY PAPER TOWELS???”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Cheritz canon says that Tom calls Seven ‘Jerry’, but I’m neatly side-stepping that in my Tom fic by referencing it once, blaming it on Tom’s aunt, and then not speaking of it again. And I’m doing the same here. Tom calls Seven variations of Luciel, because: it’s adorable to me ^^;


	26. Day 6 - afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven's watchful vigilance is interrupted by hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really the last opportunity Seven gets for a bit of fluffiness before things really go to hell. So, enjoy this take on one of his Day 6 calls while the fluff lasts...

## Day 6 - afternoon

“When did you do that?! It was you, right?”

Seven’s voice is a mixture of accusation and amusement, and he doesn’t seem to know which one he wants to run with.

“Do what~?”

The innocent tone in your voice makes him want to… want to…

He remembers that -  _ MOAN, ABSOLUTELY A MOAN _ \- from earlier this morning.  _ No! Stop! Desist! _

Sometimes, an excellent memory can be a hazard.

Vanderwood has had Seven trapped at his desk, practically hovering over him for hours, now, to ensure he focused on agency work only. The other agent  _ said _ they were keeping an eye on the security feed, but how was that possible, when they were swooping in to check on Seven every ten minutes?!

The corn had been a mistake. Vanderwood was extra cantankerous thanks to the corn.  _ Should have just left the whole bag with the duck. _

Seven had managed to log onto the messenger once in all that time. You hadn’t been around, which did nothing for his anxiousness, but thanks to that, he did find out Yoosung was having troubles of his own.  _ Yoosung’s mother, coming to visit… hang in there, Yoosung. _

At another time, he would have enjoyed watching the spectacle of Yoosung being forced to make kimchi and soap all day… but for now.

He had other problems.

“I’m looking at the security camera feed right now.” Seven replies to you, staring at the monitor to his right. “And I’m seeing…”

“Oh? Anything special?”

He stares at the photograph taped to a straw, dangling in front of the security camera.

> “Jeong Jun-ha. Comedian. Born 1971. Has appeared in several sitcoms and movies. He-” 

“Hey, are you reading to me from Clickipedia right now, or…?”

He closes the clicki page. “Hey, my information sources as an agent are strictly private! Don’t ask, don’t get hacked on!”

“H-hacked on?” You start laughing. “Hacked... on???”

“Now, look,” Seven begins, grinning despite himself, “You gotta take this down! What if someone came to kidnap you and I can’t see who it is because this guy is just, just -” he waves at the feed, “blocking my view with his love!”

“But Seven, I want to make sure you’re feeling appreciated!”

“Then do it by staying put and not blocking the cameras, you… you…!”

“Me? What was that? Did you want  _ me _ to send you lo-?” 

“Aaarrrgh! Time, time.” Seven claps his hands together. “You’re doing, you’re doing that thing!”

“What thing?” 

“You know, that thing, the thing you do where… where you say something, and my heart starts racing. Just like when I discover Yoosung doing something nice in LOLOL and I think of a way to interfere! My heart races just the same.” He continues his monologue without taking a breath. “I feel like it’s literally going to explode. What’s wrong with me? Haha… if I ever keel over, you’ll have to come over and jump-start my heart.”

Hesitantly, you respond. “You know… your voice always makes my heart start pounding...”

“Gahh! You’re making it worse! You’re joking, right? Don’t get me wrong, I like hearing that… but, I’m just going to think it’s a joke, okay? If I don’t, I’m going to get weirder than I am now.” He takes a deep breath. “Anyway. Please. Please take down that photo already, okay?”

“Already on it.” Somehow, your conversation had distracted him enough that he hadn’t seen the apartment door open (not that he can see much at all with that photo in the way). Now a hand comes into view on the security feed, reaching for the photo dangling from the ceiling. If he put some creepy music behind this, it’d almost seem like a scene from a horror movie…

Especially given how high up that camera is. 

Wait. “[MC]… what are you standing on right now?”

The hand onscreen makes an unsuccessful snatch for the photo. “Oh, uh. Just some stuff.”

“Some... stuff? Is it safe? You’re safe, right?”

Another unsuccessful snatch. “Uhm… well…”

Finally, the hand on screen catches the edge of the photo and manages to pull it loose. It vanishes, and a few seconds later the hand returns to give the camera a thumbs-up sign.

Seven breaths a sigh of relief. “So, why do you have a photo of that guy anyway?” Would have been better if it had been a photo of you. Although - no, he shouldn’t think about it.

“Oh, I cut it out of a magazine I bought from the store. I thought it’d make you smile.”

He sighs and pushes himself back from the computer, warily eyeing the door. Can’t be long until Vanderwood checks in again. But for some reason he doesn’t quite understand, he has to ask. “You know… I keep thinking about what you’d think of me. You don’t talk behind my back or anything, do you? You think… you think I’m a nice person?” 

On the security feed, you finally come properly into view. The magazine photo hangs loosely from your fingertips, phone pressed to your ear in your other hand. You look so small, from here. “I want to get to know you better and ask all these questions… but…” As he’s speaking, you vanish in the direction of the camera again. Probably collecting whatever it was you were standing on. He continues on, mostly talking to himself. “Ugh. I shouldn’t be thinking that way in the first place. Yeah. Why am I thinking this? I can’t. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I finally going crazy? But I thought I was already crazy? Arrgh!!”

You pop back into view, this time pushing a clunky-looking rubbish bin towards the apartment.  _ Wait. Was she STANDING on THAT?! _

“What the heck, [MC]? You stood on  _ that?!” _

“Haha,” you tease, “this might look like an ordinary stinky box full trash, but  _ really _ it’s my secret weapon. Don’t let these pictures go public!!! This is  _ my _ special defense plan in case of unwanted visitors!” You hold your nose with one hand and salute to the camera with the other. “I’m gonna protect myself with the stink lines!” 

He smiles at your goofy pose, and gives you a tiny salute back. “Haha… well, I’m glad you’re so resourceful. But next time, please, please use a ladder. Wait. No. No next time!  _ No more camera hearts.  _ Or camera stars. Camera cats. Anything! I need to be able to see you, okay?”

You don’t say anything, but he sees what looks like a smirk of mischief on your face. He should know. “I mean it! And… and don’t even joke about someone coming around unexpected for you, [MC], I’m worrying enough as it is…” He pulls at his hoodie’s strings with one hand. “I… I should just come over there and watch over you myself, but… wait. No!  No… I have to see you if I do that. Then, I can’t. I need to avoid you.” On the monitor, he sees your shoulders droop. He tugs at the hoodie strings harder. “But I can’t… thinking that I have to avoid you makes me feel so upset… God… I’m seriously all over the place, aren’t I?”

You’re staring hard into the security camera directly, now, but he forces himself to look away. He’s learned a lot about reading people over the years but… he’s not sure he wants to know what you’re feeling right now.

“I’m acting so strange… I’m forgetting my place… oh, forget that last part.” He pulls himself into the desk once more. “I have the hacker’s address now. I just need to finish my work, and then… ugh. I need to go straighten out my thoughts. Call me if anything happens… okay…?”

He watches you push the heavy rubbish bin back into Rika’s apartment and sighs, forcing himself to switch the monitor feed over to something else. Focus, and finish.  _ That’s all you need to do. _

But out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of the robot dog, and a new idea forms…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alternating between updating this and two other fics right now, so at about 2 chapters published a week, I'm hoping to keep this one updating roughly fortnightly from now on until it is complete! 
> 
> Also, last weekend I released a free game, if you like my writing you might enjoy it! It's about being trapped without understanding why, and [you can download it for free here](https://evetales.itch.io/there-are-limits).


End file.
